


The Nearness Of You

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Beacon County Tech College, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Past Character Death, Past Derek Hale/Paige, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build, Stiles-centric, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College is an experience that’s different for everyone. Of course, Stiles dives right into the fray. Having already made friends before he started, he’s pulled into the college’s student parliament, the nightclub at the dorms, and -- most importantly -- into a dorm room with all his friends right next doors. That includes the elusive, tall, dark, and mysterious Derek Hale. And maybe a few too many poetic descriptions that Stiles absolutely doesn’t have from Harlequin romances. They’re Isaac’s, okay, he just happens to share a room with him and Scott. And the bathroom. Which they also share with Derek, and it’s not going to be a problem at all. Featuring meddling friends and siblings, college shenanigans, fancy ballrooms, and curly fries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly a NaNoWriMo project, revived for the Teen Wolf Big Bang. I summed it up as: A (mostly) fluffy college AU with no werewolves, no deaths, and a lot of familiar names from canon. It still holds true (no heavy angst, deaths only in the past, tension only of the UST kind). 
> 
> I got lucky, because my fic got picked by the lovely [grimlig](http://grimlig.livejournal.com), whose art has floored me, and can be found [here on Livejournal](http://grimlig.livejournal.com/693.html). The level of detail is amazing, and thank you, hon, for it! <3 
> 
> It always takes a village, and while the start of this one was me and a bunch of my personal college experiences, the process of getting it into a readable shape took way more than me. Thank you, Annelies, Leonie, Emony, Tay, Nomi, and Trys for the handholding, encouragements, editing, and trust that I can actually finish this mammoth. 
> 
> **Fair warning:** A lot of this fic is based on my college times. Since I'm not American, there are things that work differently than they do in the US - please allow for artistic license, and if you need to, imagine that Beacon Hills has temporarily relocated outside the US.  
>  For any further questions or clarifications of tags etc, feel free to contact me on [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com).

When the call came, Stiles felt more relieved than worried. He’d spent the majority of his senior year fretting over colleges, applications, scholarships, and decisions. But once his Dad told him over the phone that there were letters with his name on it from several schools, Stiles -- without even seeing them -- felt like he could breathe again. He didn’t rush home, instead he stopped by Scott’s house to check if they both had envelopes to open, and then they both headed for the Stilinski residence. 

“This is it, Scotty,” Stiles said when they sat down in the kitchen, envelopes unopened in front of them. 

“I just want to get  _ somewhere _ , man,” Scott said, his pile smaller than Stiles’, because he’d only applied to schools close to home, and his grades didn’t allow for more anyway. “And for that somewhere to be affordable.”

“Let’s do this?” Stiles asked, picking one of the letters and eyeing the college name. 

“Yeah, let’s,” Scott echoed, and he grabbed one of his own. 

When Stiles’ Dad came home, he found them still at the table, with a bag of chips surrounded by letters in various states of being crumpled, and ripped envelopes scattered around. 

“What’s the verdict?” John asked, sliding into a chair. 

“County Tech,” Stiles said, handing his Dad the one letter that was in pristine condition. “Full ride, dorm, the major I was aiming for, and they’re even letting Scotty in.” 

“What about…” John started, but Stiles shook his head before hearing the full question. 

“Not enough extracurriculars, not a good enough essay, not enough space,” Stiles rattled off reasons he’d found in the rejection letters. “Some of them are conditional, others would cost too much to be worth it. And before you ask, none of those that hinge on tuition were on my shortlist.” 

“And County Tech was, since you’ve already visited classes.” John nodded in acknowledgment. 

“Plus it’s close, and like I said,” Stiles smiled across the table at Scott. “They’re even letting Scotty in.” 

A crumpled letter flew at Stiles, and he ducked it, laughing at Scott’s aim. 

“We both got dorm allocations too, so that takes out commuting,” Scott said, trying to ignore Stiles laughter. “It would be a bit rough cycling there.” 

“Sounds like you two have made up your mind,” John said, and he leaned back in the chair.

“It was one of the top choices anyway,” Stiles said, taking the acceptance letter back. “You know I didn’t want to go too far.”

“I know. And it allows you to get back in with your little delinquent crew.” John was frowning, but Stiles didn’t miss the tug of a smile on his Dad’s lips. “Should I be worried?” 

“Dad, I am offended!” Stiles’ indignation was completely wiped out by the laugh that he couldn’t hold back. “Should I tell Jordan that you called him a delinquent?” 

“Go ahead, it won’t do no harm to put some fear in the boy,” John said, laughing. “I won’t mind if he’s a little scared before he hits the Academy and then comes to join the force.” 

“I think, legally, only Danny qualifies for that label though,” Scott commented. 

“Now that he’s an adult, he has no official record,” John said. “Though that doesn’t mean I’m letting him anywhere near the station’s computers. Boy already knows more than he should.”

Stiles perked up at that comment, but John shook his head and got up, ignoring the inquiring looks from his son. 

“You boys behave,” he said. “I have to head back to the station. No celebrating without adult supervision, please.” 

Stiles muttered quiet protest and complaints about his Dad’s words, but he knew that not even Scott would’ve bought promises of behaving. When John left, they gathered up the letters, and settled in the living room, firing up Stiles’ game console.

“When are you heading to BCT next?” Scott asked after they started playing. 

“Probably the weekend,” Stiles said. “The class I did is finished now, but I’m gonna visit with Danny and Jordan, to let them know I got in. Are you working?”

“You know it,” Scott said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my job, but it feels like you’ve got yourself a whole new set of friends already, while all I have is puppies and cats at work.” 

Stiles nudged Scott’s shoulder with his own, and laughed when Scott’s attention on the game meant that he almost lost his balance at the nudge. 

“Don’t worry, bro,” Stiles said, taking his hand off the controller to pat Scott’s knee in reassurance. “You’ll be friends with them soon enough. Just think, we’re going to be roommates.” 

“New adventure?” Scott asked, glancing at Stiles, grin lighting up his face.

“Whole new worlds, Scotty boy,” Stiles said, and he sighed. “Whole new everything.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The college dorms had a nightclub on the premises, which was just one of the things that Stiles couldn’t wait to start exploring thoroughly once he was settled in. When Danny and Jordan had asked him to help out with the room assignment of freshmen, he'd agreed with more enthusiasm than either of them was expecting. Since the only place that had enough space to hold the housing crew  _ and _ all the freshmen was the club, Stiles found himself walking into one of the side rooms where the others were already set up.

"Dude, I can't believe you guys are letting me be a part of this," Stiles said, excitement coloring his words as he settled in a chair at the end of a line of tables.

"It's really not that big a deal," Danny smirked. "Wait until we're twenty freshmen in and you're already trying to not die of boredom."

"Yeah, yeah, tedious, boring, frustrating, you've said it all Mahealani," Stiles shrugged. "Still though, they're all  _ out there _ ," Stiles waved towards the windows separating them from the lobby, where freshmen were beginning to gather, "and I'm  _ here _ , though I'm technically one of them."

"You've been hanging out with us at the dorms  _ and _ in school for so long that I wouldn't be surprised if the professors knew you as well."

"That's true, it's not like I really had to make that much of a choice coming here," Stiles said. "Dad's even kind of glad that I didn't end up at the east coast."

"How's the Sheriff doing, anyway?" Danny asked, slightly distracted by the pile of lists on the table in front of him.

"Same old, Beacon Hills' finest criminals keeping him up at night, like Mrs. Riley’s tomcat," Stiles smirked.

"Don’t you mean yourself? Especially now that you’re not treated as a juvenile anymore."

"Hey! I'm not the one with a record here," Stiles said, but there was no heat in his words.

Of course he knew about Danny's record, juvenile and sealed, since he'd been involved in the case too,  although unlike Danny, he’d got away with just a slap on the wrist. Granted, his role was the less illegal one - Danny had been the one who’d hacked into the police station’s file system - but Stiles had been in on the whole thing. He'd done all he could to get Danny as light a punishment as he could.

"No thanks to you, Stilinski, don't think I've forgotten," Danny frowned. "We're both lucky that in this school it's a quietly acknowledged achievement, legal matters aside."

"True, true," Stiles smiled and glanced at the pile in front of Danny. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"Okay, here's a rundown." Danny leaned back in his chair, ignoring the threatening creak from it. "We have the freshers out there," he waved towards the lobby they were situated in. "Now, the returning students have all claimed rooms, which are on the sheets that Parrish and the terrible twins have over there."

"Hey, I heard that!" Ethan, one of the twins Danny mentioned, called out.

"Suck it up, you know you two are!" Danny laughed back.

"So what do we do here?" Stiles looked over the lists on their table.

"We get the freshmen's IDs, tick them off the list, and pass them onwards to the guys for room assignment," Danny explained. "Then when they're done, Aiden will pass the room number to Cora, who is about the only one in this madhouse with decent handwriting. Well, her, Boyd or Derek, but neither of the guys can do it."

Danny paused, smiling brightly at the dark-haired girl passing in front of their table just then, and she raised her eyebrow in a way that Stiles found slightly threatening. But then she smiled back at Danny and continued on to the end table where a laminating machine was already set up.

" _ That _ was Cora," Danny noted, and smirked when Stiles muttered a quiet 'I know'. "She'll write out the dorm pass details so they can get laminated. You know you need it to sign in at the reception, right?"

Stiles nodded, familiar with the system from his previous visits to the college and the dorms.

"Hey, is it all random room assignments?"

Danny nodded.  "Yeah, the letter they all got did mention that if anyone wants to room together, the one who's first alphabetically can have their chosen roommate’s name with them, and Jordan will pencil it in for when their name comes up."

“They know they’re coming in alphabetically by surname. If they want to room together, the first one in here can have their roommate’s name for Jordan to pencil in to hold the place.”

"But they can’t pick a room," Stiles nodded in acknowledgment. "Hey, what about me? I mean, Scott's not up until whenever, probably not until later in the day, and I'm… here," he waved his hand at the room they were in.

"Like we didn't already snag you a room on our floor, Stilinski," Jordan told Stiles from Danny's other side. "Don't worry about it, you'll be nice and safe … and  _ under supervision _ ."

"Let me guess, the Sheriff's request?" Stiles groaned. "Which one of you got caught at Makeout Point this summer?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jordan laughed. "How do you know it's not Mahealani?"

"Because he has more class than you do," Stiles replied without hesitation. "Though I wouldn't think  _ you _ would, seeing as you still want a job with my Dad at some point."

"Point," Jordan shrugged. "Wasn't me anyway."

"One of you will tell me who needed to do  _ community service _ ," Stiles said then, air quotes included. "Don't think I don't know what my Dad calls what's ultimately babysitting me."

"Not any of our faults that you  _ need _ babysitting," said a girl passing by their table just then, flicking her hair dismissively.

"Queen Lydia," Stiles nodded. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Someone's gotta keep you deviants in check," she said with a sneer. "Also, I'm to bring Derek a list of drinks you want for later."

"Iced tea," Ethan, Aiden, and Danny said immediately. Ethan added: "The one… oh he'll know which one.  _ You _ know which one."

"Is that even legal?" Stiles whispered to Danny. "I'm guessing we're  _ not _ talking non-alcoholic stuff here."

"We're not, and well, Derek  _ is _ legally allowed to make those, and he's on the management team of the club here," Danny explained quietly. "We're all on the student council, so there are a few averted gazes. And it's not like  _ you _ will go blabbing to anyone, right?"

"Oh hell no," Stiles shook his head. "Even if I told Dad, he'd just find a way to blame me. Can I have one of the things you asked for?"

"Hey Lyds, see if Der can make one for the newbie!" Danny called out instead of answering Stiles.

"Put it on the list, I've more important things to remember," Lydia replied and tossed a small notebook to Danny.

When Stiles peeked at the page it was open on, he saw that everyone else already had a drink written down. Danny scribbled his own name and the drink, then added a '+1' with a wink and mumble of "just in case" to Stiles.

"So, are we waiting for round one or are we letting the wild animals in?" Aiden asked from his spot at the table.

"Let's get one group out of the way, at least," Jordan said, then he turned to the small window that separated their room from the lobby and called, "Yo, Boyd, let the first ten in!"

Stiles realized that Boyd -- he remembered the dark-skinned boy from high school, but didn't realize he was already a student in Beacon County Tech -- was standing just outside the door, trying to organize the freshmen into some sort of order. When the doors opened, the faces on the group that stumbled in showed various levels of relief.

"Name?" Danny said when the first one came up to their table.

It only took about five students until they set up a rhythm, Danny asking for the name, Stiles helping with looking it up on the list, checking their ID and dorm assignment confirmation. Some of the freshmen came with names of friends they wanted to room with, and Danny explained what to do with them. Stiles knew there weren't singles -- those got claimed by older students fast -- even before the first freshman enquired about one, and by the tenth person, he explained that before Danny could.

Lydia wasn't back with the drinks yet when Boyd let in the second group, and the first one to come up to their table was the first unfamiliar face that he saw. Of course, he knew that BCT had students that weren't solely Beacon Hills High alumni or Beacon County residents, but it still caught him a tiny bit by surprise. All the faces in the first group were ones that he knew either from his own school, or from events that covered the county. 

"Name?" Danny asked without looking up.

"Allison Argent," the girl said quietly and handed her ID into Stiles’ outstretched hand.

Danny looked up sharply just as Stiles' eyebrows raised. The name was familiar to both, but neither of them commented when they looked at the girl who shuffled her feet nervously. Stiles remembered when another Argent had been the talk of the town, though his Dad had somehow managed to keep a lot of the details -- especially the important ones -- from Stiles. But the Hale house fire was something that everyone in town knew about, along with the name of the person responsible. Stiles also knew that only a few people had made it out -- one of them was currently sitting at the last table down the line -- but they’d all moved away at the time, only coming back for college.

"Any relation to…?" Stiles started asking, but stopped when Danny's foot connected with his ankle. "Sorry, sorry, keeping my nose out of shit I've no right to ask about, please proceed."

"She was my aunt," Allison replied to the unfinished question. "Not that I really knew her before…"

Her voice trailed off and she looked to the floor again, obviously uncomfortable. Stiles suddenly got flashes of Allison being at the mercy of some people in town who would hold  _ her _ responsible for what her aunt did, and he froze, then nudged Danny and shot him a pleading look. Danny, to his credit, realized what Stiles was hinting at and looked to the next table.

"Yo, Reyes," Danny called to the girl who appeared a while earlier and was now leaning over Ethan's shoulder to look at the room assignment plans. "Think you can take this one in?"

Stiles noticed how Erica -- the girl Danny addressed, and one of his fellow BHHS alumni -- raised her eyebrows before she shuffled over. One glance at Allison's ID later, Erica was nodding and rushed over to Jordan's side.

"Meet your new roommate, Erica Reyes," Danny smiled up at Allison. "The guys will get your room number and everything else."

"Thank you," Allison said, relief washing over her face.

Stiles mumbled his own thank you to Danny when Allison moved to the next table.

"Dude, I wouldn't want her to face the wolves alone," Danny spoke in a hushed tone. "I've seen the file, the family was estranged way before shit hit the fan. But still, you never know how people would react. This way they'll get to know her first at least."

"You've seen the file?  _ How? _ " Stiles asked, his eyes wide open. "Dad wouldn't let me go  _ near _ the thing!"

"How do you think I got the record?" Danny smirked. "It certainly wasn't because I snuck into the frequency listing of the station's radio."

"Oh," Stiles said, feeling a little stupid for a moment.

When his Dad had doled out the punishments for his and Danny's tricks, that was what Stiles was led to believe - that Danny had hacked into the system to get the frequencies, which had been Stiles' fault as he asked for them.

"I was sworn to secrecy on everything else I found," Danny said. "I was already in, there was no way I wasn't going to snoop around. It's mostly why I even got caught."

Stiles opened his mouth to apologize, even though he'd already done so multiple times, and Danny waved him off.

"Forget it, it was my own fault anyway," he said to a baffled Stiles, then looked at the next freshman who was watching their exchange from a slight distance. "Next one, name?" Danny asked and turned back to the list on the table before Stiles could continue the conversation.

They didn't get through too many of the freshmen's room allocations before Lydia sauntered in with a tray in her hand, muttering that she wasn’t a waitress. Stiles couldn't help but stare -- as his best friend could confirm he did have a well documented and long-running crush on her, and while he was  _ mostly _ over it, she still had his attention whenever she was in the room. That was, until the door swung open a moment later and Stiles' eyes widened at the sight of the man who walked in.

"Oh hey Derek," Danny said, and Stiles' breath caught in his throat a little.

_ This _ was Derek Hale? Stiles remembered the guy from high school, from before the surviving members of the Hale family moved away -- New York, his mind supplied -- and while Stiles saw the familiarity in his features, he wasn't entirely prepared for how well puberty had treated Derek. Of course, Stiles realized there were some similarities to Cora, though not too pronounced, but Derek… well, the sight of Derek's face and body confirmed what Stiles already knew about his own sexuality.  _ Yup, definitely not straight _ , Stiles thought, and blushed a little when his mind immediately came up with just how he'd like to act on that knowledge, all involving Derek.

"Dude," Danny nudged Stiles to get him back to reality.

"Oh, hi, 'm Stiles," he moved a hand toward Derek, but then he pulled it back when he realized that Derek's hands were occupied with a tray filled with drinks.

"I know," Derek said with a gruff tone. "Here, this one's yours," he put a glass down in front of Stiles.

"Thanks," Stiles said, slightly put off by the brush-off.

"Hey, don't sweat it," Danny told him a moment later, when Derek moved on to the other side of the room and was now talking quietly with Cora. "It's not you, it's him?"

"He doesn't even know me," Stiles almost pouted. "I mean, what, I'm not even the only one underage here, so it can't be that he's pushed into breaking the law for  _ me _ ."

"I'm sure that's not it," Danny tried to ease Stiles' worry. "Derek is… well, he doesn't do human interaction that well. You get used to it."

"Doesn't know what he's missing, I'm awesome," Stiles muttered, but then he turned his attention to the drink in front of him. "Are those pineapples? Cool!"

He had one on the cocktail spoon and moving past his lips before Danny managed to get out a warning. The first bite into the piece of fruit told Stiles why he should've gone easy on it, though.

"Damn, has this been marinating in straight vodka or something," he asked when he caught his breath after the surprise of the pineapple being infused with alcohol.

"Nah, it's a Turbo, that's normal," Danny laughed next to him, sipping his own drink slowly.

"Turbo what?" Stiles asked.

"It's Long Island Iced Tea, really, just with doubled up alcohol contents," Danny explained.

"Damn," Stiles muttered, and picked another pineapple piece, though he bit into it a little more carefully. "I hope no one ever downs this fast. It doesn't taste that strong," he added after taking a sip of the actual drink.

"There are  _ legends _ , man," Danny said with a hint of reverence in his voice. "There's a drinks menu for the club, too, shaped like a pyramid, and there are well-known challenges to scale that pyramid."

Danny reached behind him, where a menu had been left on the windowsill, and handed it to Stiles, who immediately began studying it closely.

"Shit," Stiles gasped a moment later. "Has anyone actually managed that?"

"Like I said,  _ legends _ ," Danny said with a smirk. "Though wait," he added after a beat, and then he turned to the other side of the room and called, "Derek!"

When Derek walked over, there was no sign of his glare at Stiles getting any less unfriendly.

"Yo, Der, what's the Turbo record at the moment?" Danny asked, not paying attention to the way Stiles shrunk in the seat next to him nor how Derek's eyes flicked between them, his expression stormy.

"Six, at the last count," Derek replied after a moment's thought.

Danny whistled low, and then raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your five?"

"Laura," Derek muttered.

"Dude, your own sister beat it? Damn, girl," Danny laughed.

"She had a point to prove," Derek said, as if that explained everything.

Stiles realized that it probably did to everyone but him, because Danny didn't even bat an eyelid at the comment.

"Thanks for these, anyway," Danny said, then glanced to the door where a few freshmen were already looking impatient again. "We'd better get back to work, I guess."

"Cora's going for burgers later," Derek said, and then he walked off, glaring at the freshmen as he passed by them.

"Oh, cool, burgers from the place down the road?" Stiles perked up at the information. "They have the  _ best _ fries; think I can get Cora to bring me some?"

"You could go with her, I'm sure she won't mind an extra pair of hands," Danny said, but then he looked up to the next freshman who was standing awkwardly in front of them, looking a little lost. "Name?"

That was the end of that conversation for a while, and they all got back to the job at hand. Before it was time for lunch, they got through half of the queue of freshmen, which surprised Stiles a little. When he’d walked through the lobby in the morning, the number of them looked a lot more frightening, and he’d worried that they'd be stuck there until late. But the rest of the housing committee had a system that worked like a well-oiled machine, though Danny did comment on how there was less hassle with complaints this year.

"Name?" Danny asked the last freshman in the current group that was allowed in.

Boyd had just let the rest of them know that they'd be back after lunch, and Stiles could hear his stomach rumble even over the conversation noise that was somehow getting louder as the break got close.

"Isaac Lahey," the freshman said quietly, and put his ID and room allocation letter into Stiles' outstretched hand.

"Oh hey, you were in my Chem class last year," Stiles blurted, remembering the guy.

"And English, and Bio the year before," Isaac nodded, though he was obviously flustered a little at the attention. "We were both on the lacrosse team in sophomore year, too."

"Oh yeah, I didn't last long there, did you keep it up until graduation?"

"No, my Dad…" Isaac started, but the words got stuck in his throat then.

That moment was enough to remind Stiles of what he'd heard -- Isaac's brother had died in the line of duty, their Dad had turned to alcohol, and there were bruises and cuts that resulted in Isaac being pulled out of his home and put into the system in the last year of high school. Stiles could sympathize with Isaac when it came to his father’s alcohol problem -- not that  Stiles’ own Dad had ever raised a hand  to him, but after his Mom died, the Sheriff did go through a bout of becoming way too fond of the bottle.

"Yo, Stiles, think McCall would mind Isaac as a roommate?" Danny interrupted the awkward pause that followed the conversation, and Stiles knew that he wasn't the only one remembering Isaac's story.

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Stiles said, his voice a bit lighter. "Do you want me to tell Jordan?"

"Yeah, go," Danny nodded. "Isaac, Stiles will walk you through it." He looked up and handed Isaac his ID and letter back. "I'll be fine wrapping up here, just don't get stuck annoying Cora, okay? You can let her know about the food run, too."

"Oh yeah,  _ food _ ," Stiles hummed as a smile spread across his face. "C'mon, Isaac, let's get us a room."

"Dude, like you don't have one already," Jordan piped up from the next table when Stiles got there. "Now, question is only which triple you prefer," he turned to the plans on the table. "Or who you won't mind sharing a bathroom with."

Stiles peeked over Jordan's shoulder at the plans, and remembered how the rooms were arranged -- four triples on a floor, one kitchen shared between all the rooms, and each triple shared a bathroom with one other room, either a single or a double.

"What are the choices?" Stiles asked, trying to decipher the writing on the smaller rooms.

"Well, Laura and Cora have already set up with Lydia, so that's out," Jordan said, then laughed at the way Stiles' face fell. "Trust me, you don't want your illusions ruined by sharing a bathroom with her."

"There are no illusions, Lydia is a Goddess," Stiles mumbled with reverence, but quietly enough that no one else would overhear.

He was  _ over _ the crush he had on her in school, he really was. Not that anyone would believe him.

"How about Catwoman?" Stiles pointed to the paper, trying to ignore Jordan's continued chuckling.

"Nah, we don't like to have freshies take up a whole quarter and she has Allison there now, so…" Jordan frowned at the floor plan.

"Quarter?" Isaac asked with a confused frown.

"See the way each floor has four parts around the hall in the center?" Stiles pointed to one of them, and Isaac nodded. "Well, each of those holds two rooms that share a bathroom. And each is technically a quarter of the whole size of the floor, not counting the space taken up by stairs on one side and the kitchen on the other. Hence, quarters."

Isaac nodded again, and looked back to where Jordan was pointing to their options.

"Looks like it's either Derek, or Danny with Jackson." Ethan said then, looking at the plans with Jordan.

"Fuck," Stiles sighed. "Seriously? I'm pretty sure Jackson would kill me if he could get away with it and Derek…"

Stiles thought back on the reaction during his first encounter with Derek, and the unpleasantness of it. He weighed the risk of Jackson’s wrath against making an even worse impression on Derek by living so close.  

"Hey, Danny's there too. But we shared with Derek last year and he's pretty cool," Ethan added, startling Stiles who hadn’t noticed him approaching.

"Wouldn't you want to keep him in your quarter then?" Isaac said, reminding them that he was on the other side of the table.

"Nah, man, change is good," Ethan replied, and he shrugged. "We were in each other's pockets last year, it'd be nice to switch around a bit."

"Derek it is," Jordan said, then he looked at Stiles and added, "unless you have strong objections?"

"I'll live," Stiles nodded. "At least I've got Scotty and Isaac there, if you think Derek can put up with that then we're cool."

"That Derek can put up with what?" Cora asked, appearing by Isaac's side suddenly, then she peeked at the plans. "He's gonna kill you, Jor."

"Well, it's them or us," Jordan shrugged, "and we all know how well he'd handle four of us sharing with him."

"Is Aiden still camping it?" Cora smirked.

"Yeah, he failed the circuits credit last semester, so he's got no bed," Ethan grinned at his twin.

"Wait, four?" Stiles asked. He and Isaac both looked surprised.

"Yeah, if someone doesn't get a bed allocation, they can still bring their own mattress and be a plus one in a triple,  _ if _ someone is willing to take them," Jordan said with a glance to Aiden. "He's just lucky Boyd and I were feeling charitable enough."

"Fuck you, you know you love me," Aiden said defensively, though the smile betrayed their words to be friendly teasing.

"Dude, I kind of want to do that," Stiles mused.

"Tell me when you get sick of having an actual  _ bed _ , man, I'll switch anytime," Aiden offered, but it was clear from his tone that he wasn't going to hold Stiles to it.

It wasn't that Stiles didn't appreciate  _ having _ a bed either, he knew that the dorm space was limited and not everyone got one -- as proven by Aiden's lack of it -- but he couldn't  _ not _ think of college life as somewhat of an adventure. And if it came with trying to live in a dorm without having anything but a sleeping bag and maybe a thin mattress on the floor, Stiles wouldn't have complained. Or at least he wouldn't have complained too much or too loudly.

"Okay, Stilinski, did you tell Cora yet that you're volunteering as a pack mule for lunch?" Danny joined in the conversation.

"No, Isaac still doesn't have his dorm pass, I was just about to tell her," Stiles said.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get your pretty face laminated," Cora smiled at Isaac, and then chuckled at his slightly alarmed expression. "Oh don't worry; it's just the photo that goes on the pass, not your  _ actual _ face."

Leaving the guys laughing at the table, Stiles and Isaac moved over to where Cora's gear was set up, and they watched her write out Isaac's card before she ran it through the laminator.

"There you go, pretty boy," she handed him the card with a grin. "Now, Stiles, what's this I hear about you volunteering to carry the goods? What's your angle?"

Stiles squirmed under her enquiring gaze, but a beat later he shrugged and smiled.

"Curly fries," he said. "That's all the angle I've got."

"I don't know, you don't strike me as all that straight," Cora shot at him without malice in her voice, a teasing grin still playing on her lips.

"Equal opportunity is all the rage these days, I hear," Stiles didn't hesitate replying.

"Damn right it is," Cora nodded, and she looked to where the others were still poring over the dorm plans. "Yo, animals, hope you've got your food orders at the ready!"

There was a scramble around the table as everyone started looking for a sheet of paper to write down their requests. Stiles looked to Isaac, who was still shuffling around like he didn't know what to do next.

"Hey, Isaac, wanna come with us? I'll get Scott's food too, he's not getting his pass until after lunch," Stiles said, and glanced towards the lobby. "If you want to wait until he's done, we can get our keys then and battle it out for the beds?"

"Sure, sounds good," Isaac nodded. "Wait, Scott… McCall, right?"

"Yeah, you guys know each other, don't you?" Stiles asked, trying keep his mind in the conversation.

"Kind of, I guess," Isaac shrugged. "Not like we're buddies or anything, but with him being on the team for a while, and his Mom has…" he paused and took a steadying breath before he continued, "she patched me up a few times, and called your Dad more than once when…"

He let his voice drift off, but he didn't need to specify, Stiles knew well about those calls and what they led to. He nodded to Isaac, and then turned to where Cora was trying to get a list of food requests from everyone.

"Cora, I'm gonna pop out to ask Scott if he wants food, is that cool?" Stiles asked when he waved and got her attention.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded, and then narrowed her eyes. "Hey, can you run down to the basement bar and get Derek's order? I'm pretty sure I know what he wants, but I'd rather check."

"Oh, okay, if you think he's not gonna bite me or something," Stiles said with hesitation.

"Nah, don't think you're his preferred meal type, Stilinski, and as much as he acts like the lone, aggressive wolf most of the time, his bark is worse than his bite,

" she laughed. "Just ask him if he wants his usual, and then we can run down to the diner."

Stiles nodded, then rushed into the lobby, trying to find Scott in the slightly thinner crowd of freshmen still waiting to get their rooms assigned. He didn't spot him on the way towards the stairs leading to the bar -- the main one was closed off since it was where the freshmen were gathered -- that he knew from his previous visits for game and paintball nights. It was at the bottom of the stairs, next to a smaller, more private dance floor that was used only for certain events and private parties. Somehow it didn't surprise him that Derek chose that bar as his base, though he didn't know the man all that well.

_ Yet, I don't know him well yet _ , Stiles thought as he snuck quietly through the door to the bar area. He figured that sharing a bathroom would push them into knowing each other at least a little better as the semester progressed.

"Derek?" Stiles said when he couldn't see anyone in the dimmed lights at the bar. "Hello? Sourwolf?"

The nickname passed his lips before Stiles could consider that it might've been a bad move. But it somehow fit Derek's earlier mood and grumpiness, and Stiles' mind came up with the likeness to a wolf thanks to Cora's earlier remark: close to those who were family, but standoffish with strangers.

"Don't call me that," came the gruff response from behind the bar, and Stiles startled even though he was waiting for Derek to show up.

"Sorry," Stiles muttered, then added a little louder, "Cora sent me to ask if you want the usual for lunch? We're about to head to the diner to get everyone's food."

"Are you trying to get into her pants or something?" Derek said, a hint of anger coloring his tone.

"What? No!" Stiles replied almost too quickly, and then rambled on, "I mean, she's way out of my league anyway. And it's not like I'd try and sneak my way into her good books, pretty sure it wouldn't work anyway."

"Damn right it wouldn't," Derek said, not looking at Stiles at all.

"But no, I'm  _ not _ , just here to get your order, man."

"Tell her to get the usual," Derek said, and waved his hand like he was dismissing Stiles from the room.

"Oh dude, living with you will be oh so much fun," Stiles muttered as he made his way to the door.

He glanced back when a sound reached his ears -- he couldn't make out words, but he was pretty sure it was a curse. But Derek was already out of sight again, so Stiles figured he imagined the it, or it was something else. By the time he stopped trying to figure it out, he was back upstairs in the lobby, and he promptly ran into Scott.

"Dude, where'd you go? What's happening now? Boyd said we can't go in for a while?" Scott fired off questions, and Stiles praised his own ability to keep up to speed with his best friend.

"Went to get a lunch order, because lunch is what's happening. Want me to get you anything?" Stiles grinned at Scott. "I'm going with Cora to the diner down the road; you know the one with the awesome curly fries?"

"Yeah, bro, I think you're the only one having a love affair with those," Scott laughed, but then rattled off a burger request to Stiles.

"Hey, don't mock a man's love for the gift from heavens that curly fries most certainly are," Stiles replied. "I'll go get the food then hopefully it won't take long for you to get your dorm pass. And then we can do rock-paper-scissors or something for beds. Oh hey, almost forgot, remember Isaac? Isaac Lahey?"

"Yeah, sort of, Mom's mentioned him a few times, and your dad got his dad arrested last year, didn't he?" Scott said, his eyebrows scrunched as he tried to remember anything else. "We all warmed the bench at lacrosse, but other than that, I don’t know him."

"Well, you're about to get to know him better," Stiles smiled. "He'll be sharing with us. I hope that's cool with you."

Scott nodded, and said, "Better him than some complete stranger. With our luck, we'd end up with someone who can't play CoD or isn't into gaming at all, and then where would we be?"

"Dude, tech college, there aren't going to be too many of those," Stiles said. "Not that I know if Isaac plays, but I'm sure we can get him trained well, and then we'll rule even more."

"Stiles, got lost already?" Cora called out from the door to the side room. "Come on, before the wild animals descend on the poor freshies!"

There were quite a few alarmed looks that Cora earned herself for that comment, as the freshmen in the lobby turned their heads to her. Stiles laughed, patted Scott on the shoulder and made his way to Cora, who was smirking at the reactions of those who heard her.

"Don't scare them, Cora, I don't think it'd go down well with the school if only half of them actually turned up for class on Monday," Stiles told her, but his lips were still turned up in a smile. "Leave the terrorizing for when they're asking you for classroom directions."

"You have a good head on you, I might just keep you around," she smiled back. "Now let's go," she said and turned into the room where Jordan, Danny and the twins were setting up an iPod to break up the silence with some music. "Isaac, you with us?"

Moments later, Isaac was at their side when they slipped out the back door and headed down the hill towards the diner. Cora was running over the list that had everyone's orders, and Stiles ran over Scott's order in his mind.

"Hey, what did my brother say? Is he being boring or has he recovered his sense of adventure?" Cora asked when they walked in the door of the diner.

"I'm afraid he's sticking with his usual," Stiles replied. "Oh hey, can I add Scott's order to this?"

Cora handed him the paper and a pen that she snagged off of the counter, and Stiles scribbled down Scott's request.

"You'd better be looking for more for yourself than curly fries, Stiles," Cora said when she saw him adding a 'large fries' note to the bottom of the list. "Don't think I don't know that your dad has Jordan, Danny  _ and _ quite possibly the terrible two on a mission to keep you alive while you're here."

"Ugh, not you too," Stiles groaned. "Yes, I was planning on getting more than that, but Cora, _curly fries_. Manna from heaven."

"Also not an actual food group," she shot back.

"Don't start with him, we'll never hear the end of it," Isaac joined their conversation. "I have seen him pretty much inhale a portion of them multiple times, and then there was that one school trip…"

"We do  _ not _ talk about that, Isaac," Stiles scowled. "Those were dark, very dark days."

"You got  _ sick _ on the bus, Stiles, because all you ate that weekend was curly fries," Isaac laughed.

Stiles mumbled quietly about incompetent cooks and bad potatoes, but didn't continue defending his choices. The trip that Isaac brought up lived in infamy in their class but also in the Stilinski household, since Stiles' dad had had to deal with the fall out of it. He stayed silent while they placed the orders and waited for them to be ready, but he didn't hesitate at all when his own bag of fries and the burger that he added was placed on the counter. Cora dug out the money that she collected, and -- arms full with bags of food -- they made their way back to the club.

The sight that welcomed them when they came closer to the side room's back door was one that almost had Stiles drop the load he was carrying. Erica, Aiden and Jordan were in the middle of the room, the iPod speakers were blasting a song that Stiles didn't recognize. But there was no mistaking the words that the three were yelling while they were… well, Stiles wasn't going to think of it as dancing.

" _ Get out, get out, I don't want you hanging about! _ " Erica and Aiden hollered a little louder than Jordan, and they pointed towards the lobby with the freshmen without any sign of subtlety.

By the time Stiles managed to wrap his mind around what he was seeing, Cora had the food out of her hands and joined in for the last few verses of the song. When it ended, all four of the ones participating in the show doubled over in laughter, and Stiles couldn't help but join in. It didn't help at all that he spotted Scott through the window to the lobby, and the expression in his face was a hilarious mixture of confusion and the beginnings of a pout. Stiles knew he'd have to interfere and try to talk Scott out of being offended, but that was going to have to wait a moment.

Cora caught her breath a moment later, and when she opened the first bag, the smell of fresh food turned everyone's attention to the tables where Stiles and Isaac put the goods.

"Okay, I'm going to go feed Scott and talk him out of that pout he's growing," Stiles said, and he grabbed two bags, clutching his own closer to his body than was necessary.

"This is Derek's," Cora thrust another bag at him before he could walk away. "Go bond with your new roomie."

"He's  _ not _ , jeez, Cora, are you trying to get me killed? Why me?" Stiles whined, realizing he'd have to not only make his way through the freshmen, but also face Derek again.

"You'll live, I'm pretty sure Derek isn't feeling homicidal today," Cora smirked. "But I'd get the food to him fast if I were you."

"Hate. Abhor," Stiles muttered. "Your presence is intolerable and that is the only reason I'm leaving right now."

He heard Cora and Danny's laughter even as he walked into the lobby and tossed Scott's food at him as he passed by. Then Stiles made his way downstairs, still grumbling about the unfairness of it all, wondering if he could report it as hazing, though he was sure it didn't qualify.

"Still, though, she's evil," Stiles kept talking even as he walked through the bar entrance. "I'm not a messenger boy, Derek could have come up and joined us like a  _ civilized…. _ heyyyy, Derek, didn't see you there!" Stiles almost tripped when his ramblings were interrupted by Derek's appearance from behind the bar.

"Food?" Derek asked, yet again wearing an expression that almost made Stiles cower.

"Monosyllables, cool," Stiles said, and immediately regretted his lack of a filter. "I mean, yeah, here, I'm sure Cora got what you wanted. Not that I trust her, because she's  _ evil _ ."

"That  _ is _ my sister you're talking about," Derek said with a warning tone in his voice.

Stiles hesitated between shock at Derek saying an actual sentence and the immediate feeling that he needed to apologize.

"I can speak," Derek shrugged, making Stiles realize that his filter was even more broken than usual. "I just don't ramble on when I don't need to."

"Whoa, more words," Stiles blurted out. "Sorry, sorry, my brain to mouth filter has issues,  _ obviously _ . Anyway, you have your food, and now I'm going to slowly back out because… just because."

He thought he saw Derek nod in acknowledgment, and for a moment -- Stiles was willing to chalk it up to hunger-induced hallucinations -- he thought that there may have been a smile on Derek's lips. But he was upstairs before he could think about it too much, and diving into his own food with Scott by his side, the two of them huddled close and leaning against a wall in a quiet corner.

There was still about half a bag of fries left when Stiles heard Boyd calling his name, so he got off the floor and waved absent-mindedly to Scott, knowing they'd see each other shortly. When Stiles got to his and Danny's table, there was another drink there, though when he tasted it, he realized it was decidedly non-alcoholic.

"Huh," he said when the realization hit him.

"Yeah, Derek said something about not dealing with filters?" Danny said, and his eyebrows were scrunched in confusion. "I don't get it, but if you two already have inside jokes, I wonder if we all should be worried."

Stiles blushed at the reminder of his rambling earlier, but didn't offer an explanation to Danny. He was embarrassed enough without everyone else knowing how bad his encounter with Derek was. Luckily, Boyd was already letting the next group of freshmen in, so they all became too busy with the IDs and lists, and Danny didn't dig deeper, though Stiles knew that the color in his cheeks didn't go unnoticed.

When Scott's name finally came up, Stiles left Danny alone for a moment, and walked Scott through the line, then left him to wait with Isaac.

"You guys don't mind, do you?" Stiles asked his two roommates. "I mean, you can go to the room, but if you wait, we can go together?"

"Sure," Isaac nodded.

"We'll come up with a way to claim beds," Scott smirked.

"As long as it doesn't involve making Derek angry, I'm down," Stiles said, and then he rushed back to Danny who was already throwing him glares for being left alone too long.

The next round of drinks showed up on their tables at some point, though Stiles barely noticed anyone leaving them there. He guessed it was Cora, because he was pretty sure he wouldn't have missed either Lydia or Derek, but he wasn't going to  _ ask _ . By the time all the freshmen got their rooms assigned, Stiles had a bit of a buzz going, since he ended up stealing the pineapple pieces out of Danny's and Jordan's drinks too.

"You gonna be okay getting to your room?" Danny asked, eyeing Stiles with a slight worry in his expression.

"Yeah, Scotty and Isaac will lead the way, I promise I won't get lost," Stiles nodded. "We should actually get going, we still need our room keys."

Fifteen minutes later, all three of them were climbing up the stairs, since their room was on one of the higher floors. Stiles was all for supporting his own laziness at first, but when he saw Isaac's wary look at the elevator, he suggested they do a practice run by taking the stairs -- all the others had warned him how often the elevators broke down.

"This was a bad idea," Stiles huffed when they finally got to their floor.

"Maybe you should've stayed on the lacrosse team, man," Scott smirked, though he wasn't looking all that good either.

"Inhaler, Scotty?" Stiles frowned when Scott took a breath that was a little too unsteady for Stiles' liking.

"Five floors is hardly going to trigger my asthma, dude," Scott rolled his eyes, but dug into his pocket anyway.

"I'd rather not call your mother telling her that you had an attack before classes even started, okay?"

Scott nodded, and started looking at the doors around the hall.

"So, we're…" Isaac dug his room key out of the pocket and squinted at the label on the keyring, "501?"

"Right by the stairs, handy," Stiles smiled and used his own key to unlock the door leading to their quarter.

There was a narrow hallway, starting from the door Stiles unlocked, that turned right around what he guessed was the bathroom. They passed the first door that already had a "keep out" sign -- not that Derek really needed it, because his room had a separate lockable door. The hallway led straight into the triple, and the boys stopped in the middle of the sparsely furnished room.

"Beds!" Stiles exclaimed when he saw them on one side of the room. "Dibs on the closest one?"

"The one by the wall," Isaac said, his voice quieter than Stiles' and a little shaky.

"I'm good with the middle one," Scott nodded.

"Ah, I like this already," Stiles said as he fell on what was now his bed. "We're going to make a good team, guys," he smirked at Scott and Isaac, who laid down on their beds as well.

"I don't wanna move today," Scott said, and frowned at the duffel bag that he left by the foot of the bed. "Should've brought the sleeping bag," he added after a moment.

"Sleep, now," Stiles mumbled into the pillow he brought with him. "Everything else tomorrow."

"Didn't we want to get some food tonight?" Isaac said, making Stiles try to lift his head.

"Five minutes, then we'll decide, okay?" Scott replied.

Stiles sighed, content for the moment, more than he'd expected to be on his first day officially away from home. Sure, he only had a backpack with the essentials -- his Dad would come over the next day with everything else -- but he had a room, a bed, his best friend, and college was looking pretty good from where he was right then.


	3. Chapter 3

Within two weeks, Stiles was settled in perfectly, including the pile of laundry accumulated at the bottom of his wardrobe that he knew he'd need to wash  _ soon _ . But a trip home -- okay, so it was not that far but he still didn't find the time -- hadn't happened.  He was yet to brave the manual washing machine in the shared kitchen, deterred by the unfortunate "purple shirt" incident of Scott's from the first weekend. Stiles knew that one was most likely due to Scott's lack of experience with laundry, but the washing machine looked menacing anyway. Unless it was three in the morning, when it sort of looked like a good idea, but he knew the wall it was close to was one shared with Derek's room. And Stiles had zero intentions of getting himself yelled at for the noise, or worse, killed.

There were very few surprises so far when it came to college. The one he couldn't stop wondering about was the mystery of Derek having seemingly disappeared since the room assignment day. Despite the shared bathroom and hallway, Stiles had yet to see their housemate. The fact that Stiles' bed's position allowed him to see into the hallway -- and that he normally woke up at any noise at all -- was not helping with him noticing the suspicious lack of tall, dark and grouchy in their quarter.

"Stop looking like a stalker," Scott hissed at Stiles that morning, when Stiles was trying to peek from under his blankets into the hallway in case Derek did appear.

"I'm  _ not stalking _ ," Stiles defended himself, though his attempts to get a glimpse of Derek weren't unusual at all. "I just wonder if we even  _ have _ a roommate in that corner there," he waved a hand in the direction of Derek's room. "Seriously, have any of you seen him since? What if something happened? What if he's buried under a pile of textbooks and can't get to his phone or food and we'll end up only finding out when the smell is too much. And then there will be cops, and we'll be in trouble, and Dad is going to  _ kill me _ , all because we neglected to check on Derek."

"Jeez, dramatic much?" Isaac grumbled from his bed. "It's six in the morning,  _ shut up _ , Stiles."

"Can't. I'm worried now," Stiles huffed.

"You have an overactive imagination," Scott said with a chuckle. "Also, Derek had dinner with us last night in the kitchen. Well, mostly with Jordan and Boyd, but still."

"Wait,  _ wait _ , you saw Derek and you didn't  _ tell me _ ?" Stiles sat up, and he glared at Scott. "I worried for nothing?"

" _ Worried _ , yeah," Scott rolled his eyes. "Go back to sleep, Stiles."

"Can't. Lecture at 7.15," Stiles groaned, but turned to get out of his bed. "Ugh, whoever invented those was evil."

"You just had bad luck with the class assignment," Isaac said, the words barely understandable because he was burying his face into the pillow. "I have none of those," he added.

"While I'm suffering the early morning insanity, you two can figure out if a lecture at seven in the morning is better or worse than a lab at nine at night," Stiles shot back, knowing that both Scott and Isaac had those twice in the week.

"Hate you," Scott mumbled. "Go, take notes so I can copy them off you later."

"Dude, different class," Stiles rolled his eyes as he pulled his sneakers on.

"'s the same professor, the same subject, it'll be fine," Scott shrugged.

"Point," Stiles agreed. "Hope you're not planning on sleeping through it again."

"Have to be in for attendance," Scott said.

"Yeah, and how in the world you manage to sleep on the lecture hall chairs will remain a mystery forever," Stiles laughed.

"Lies, I've seen you sleep on them too, for one," Scott said. "For another… I don't know what I was going to say."

"Go back to sleep, Scotty," Stiles continued laughing at Scott's confused face. "I'll wake you up when I get back."

"M'ffins, please," Isaac muttered from the corner and Stiles nodded at the request.

When he passed Derek's door on the way out, it was still resolutely shut, with a few exclamation marks on the "keep out" sign added since the first day. Stiles knew exactly when he noticed the addition the first time, because it happened to be the morning after a particularly vicious game of CoD in their room. Not that he knew  _ when _ Derek was around -- they played the game long into the night and Stiles was up for a 7am lecture.

During his walk to the school building, Stiles continued debating when and how Derek managed to get in and out of his room. He wasn't obsessed though; Scott was completely in the wrong for even thinking that. It was just a mystery that was asking to be solved, and Stiles was never good at staying away from those.

He checked his watch and figured he had time to stop in the small on-campus café, to at least get some coffee or a bagel. Even so, he was a few minutes early and he knew the staff wouldn't open the door until seven sharp, so he sat down by the door -- the café was inside the building, and the seven o'clock opening times allowed the students to grab something to eat before they rushed into their labs or lectures.

"Morning, sunshine," Cora walked up just as Stiles opened his bag to find his lecture notes from the week before.

"You're too cheerful for this time of the morning," Stiles said, and he knew his face betrayed the mix of disbelief and curiosity.

"Didn't sleep yet," Cora replied and slid to the floor next to him, a yawn betraying her tiredness. "The council meeting last night ran late, and then Kira and I ended up talking all night."

"How did Laura not kill you?" Stiles asked.

Cora shrugged, muttered that her sister wasn't in the night before, and then turned to stare longingly at the café door. Stiles smirked, and wondered how the grumpy demeanor must have skipped Cora when it came to family traits. Derek's older sister Laura definitely shared it with Derek, but Cora seemed to have warmed up to Stiles. She also pretty much adopted the girl that was assigned to their room -- Kira Yukimura, who wasn't an exchange student from Japan like Stiles thought, but moved to California because her parents did. He'd obviously made a fool of himself, and Kira corrected him in a way that was a lot more gentle than Stiles thought he deserved. But hey, no one could entirely blame him for the assumption - when he met Kira and her parents they were talking to each other in fluent and fast Japanese .

He also knew that Kira was a whizz at electrical engineering, and she could've gone to any school with that major in the country, but her family was so close, she chose BCT. Granted, the school had its fair share of fame amongst the technical schools, but it wasn't Ivy League by far.

"You and Kira get along well, don't you?" Stiles asked, though he could guess the answer.

"Yeah, she's cool," Cora shrugged. "It's good to not have a psycho in the room, that's for sure."

Stiles frowned at that. It sounded like there was a story behind the off-hand comment, but he didn't know what to ask about. The café doors opened just as he was about to try anyway, so instead he scrambled off the floor and rushed in behind Cora. A few minutes later, with his travel coffee mug filled with what he considered a lifeline for the morning’s classes, he was on his way to the lecture hall, Cora long gone to her own class.

Two hours and a mind-numbingly boring lecture later, Stiles trudged back to the dorm. His coffee mug had a fresh refill, and he managed to snag the last few muffins from the café's morning batch, so he knew Isaac would be happy to see him, at least. Not to mention that there was the bonus of his Calculus lecture having been cancelled, so he could get some studying done for the upcoming test in his Math Analysis lab that he'd been warned about.

"Why is it that we have so much friggin'  _ Math _ stuff," he grumbled as he tried to unlock the door. "I just want to get to a computer for once."

"Try when you've passed your basics," Derek's voice came from behind the door Stiles just opened.

"Fuck, what, where the hell did you come from?"

Stiles didn't squeak or jump, because that would be embarrassing, and he would not do any of that in front of Derek. Though technically there was the front door  _ and _ the door of the fridge in the space behind it that separated them, but  _ still _ . Embarrassing.

"My room," Derek deadpanned, and then he leaned back to look at Stiles.

"Ah, the Grouch Cave," Stiles mumbled, and didn't miss the threatening glare Derek aimed in his direction. "Sorry, sorry," Stiles quickly added. "I just started thinking you disappeared. It's been  _ weeks _ ."

"And I've been busy," Derek said and slipped past Stiles.

"Well, it's good to see you're alive," Stiles said. "I mean, I wouldn't want to have to send out a search party or anything."

"If you're all that interested, you could've just asked Cora, you know?" Derek said, and then he disappeared in his room, shutting the door with a unmistakably definite 'leave me alone' thump.

"Dude, what did you do?" Scott asked when Stiles walked into their room with his shoulders sagging.

"Derek," Stiles said and tossed the bag with muffins to Isaac, who was also eyeing him with curiosity.

"You did Derek?" Scott stared at him with surprise written all over his face.

"Jeez, Scott,  _ no _ ," Stiles hissed. "What is your mind like? Wait, no, don't tell me, but  _ no _ ," Stiles huffed and fell into one of the office chairs. "I just ran into him," he said quietly.

"Social skills fail?" Scott asked through the bite of the muffin that Isaac handed him.

"Me Stiles," Stiles pointed to himself. "Me no do social skills."

"Tell me something I don't know," Scott chuckled. "Seriously, what did you do? Will we need to sleep in the kitchen?"

"It's not  _ that _ bad," Stiles said defensively. "I don't know. He still hates me and I don't know why."

"I'm sure he doesn't," Isaac said. "It's not like he's chatty and friendly with anyone."

"He does okay with Jordan and Danny," Stiles said, and tried to keep the building pout down. "I mean, even  _ Jackson _ mentions him like they talk a lot."

"Jackson does half of that because he knows it gets a reaction from you," Isaac commented. "Who'd want to talk to him?"

"Danny does," Scott piped up, earning himself a glare from Stiles.

"Yeah, but Danny talks to everyone and has the patience of a saint," Isaac said.

Stiles threw Isaac a surprised look. Sure, they'd been living on the same floor, and met up with everyone in the four quarters regularly in their shared kitchen, but Stiles was still surprised how good of a read on people Isaac had.

"I think we can safely say that I'm the one Derek has a problem with," Stiles said, his shoulders slumping. "Not that I know why."

"I don't have a problem with you," Derek said from the hallway, and Stiles' heart skipped a beat.

"Jeez, don’t  _ do that _ ," he hissed at Derek, who walked in and leaned against the wardrobe in their room.

"Hi guys," Derek ignored Stiles' comment, and he turned to Isaac and Scott instead. "Sorry I haven't been around much, senior year is hectic. How are you settling in?"

"See?" Stiles mouthed to Scott.

"See what?" Scott tried to mouth back, but said the words out loud instead.

Stiles thumped his head against the desk in front of him, and muttered to himself about incompetent best friends. Then he heard the chuckling from Scott and Isaac, and an annoyed huff from Derek.

"Never mind, I'm just going to go… do stuff… on the balcony…  _ not abseiling down _ ," he added quickly at the end of his rambling when all three guys shot him an alarmed look. "Christ, Scott,  _ what _ ?"

"You're an idiot," Scott said, his voice betraying how little amusement he found in Stiles' behavior right then.

"Yeah well, takes one to know one," Stiles stuck his tongue out at Scott, knowing that he looked childish, but he didn't care.

"Love you, bro," Scott laughed at the reaction.

"Yeah yeah, me too, whatever," Stiles said, the affection in his voice contrasting his words.

Trying to avoid any further embarrassment, he walked out onto the small balcony off their room, and sat down on the ratty old couch that his Dad had given them. The boys had tried to protest at first, saying that it didn't fit anywhere in the room or the kitchen, but eventually they got it onto the balcony and realized it was perfect there. Unless it rained, but they all agreed that they'd deal with that when it happened.

The campus was busy now, students were rushing to or from classes, and Stiles relaxed a little as he watched them. Derek avoiding him was still nagging at his mind, but he knew that he wouldn't figure that out just yet, so he tried to stop thinking about it. He heard the quiet sounds of a conversation coming from inside, but then they stopped and he debated going back inside. Before he could move though, he heard the sound of a door opening from the other half of the balcony, separated by a stained glass panel.

"I don't hate you, Stiles," Derek said, and Stiles looked over to see him leaning over the balcony rail to look at Stiles.

"Okay," Stiles said after a pause, but he knew he sounded unconvinced.

"I don't… I'm not good with people," Derek said like that explained everything.

"Okay," Stiles repeated.

"Stiles," Derek huffed, frustration obvious in his voice and expression.

" _ Derek _ ," Stiles shot back, unable to hold back the mocking tone.

"I wasn't hiding," Derek said, but then he sighed. "Okay, I  _ was _ hiding a little."

Stiles' face lit up and he tried to convey the 'ha, I was right' thought that he wasn't going to risk saying out loud.

"It's not you guys, though, I just…" Derek stopped, and when Stiles saw the defeated slump of Derek's shoulders, he felt some sympathy for the guy.

"It's cool, man," Stiles said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible, though his curiosity didn't let up on making him wonder why Derek was the way he was around Stiles, when he wasn't as bad with others, Scott and Isaac included.

He knew there was a reason, and he was dying to know what it was, but he didn't want to go behind Derek's back to find out. Cora would tell him, or maybe one of the others who had lived with Derek before, but Stiles wasn't going to ask. When Derek shot him a quick, faint smile, Stiles also made the decision to not pry, and to wait until Derek decided to explain, if he ever did.

Derek looked like a weight lifted a little off his shoulders at Stiles' comment, but neither of them spoke after that. Stiles looked back over the railing at the campus below, and he heard the balcony door to Derek's room shut a while later. Mulling over their short conversation, Stiles got up and walked back into the room only to find it roommate-free. A glance at one of the computer screens told him that Scott and Isaac must have headed to their classes, so he fell onto his bed and rummaged in the backpack next to it for his Math notes. When he found them, he stretched out more comfortably, and he started reading over what looked a little like gibberish.

The next thing he knew the door to their quarter was slamming closed, making Stiles jump.

"Dude, lunch time!" Scott barreled into the room, speaking loudly.

Stiles sat up on the bed, and it hit him that he had fallen asleep while he'd been reading through his notes.

"Wha-?" he managed to mumble, and then he rubbed his eyes and opened them to find Scott and Isaac in the middle of the room.

"Lunch, Stiles. It's time to head down to the dining hall," Scott said, obviously getting impatient.

"Okay, okay, coming," Stiles got up, and followed Scott towards the door.

Still slightly disoriented from the nap, though, Stiles wasn't paying attention to his surroundings much beyond where Scott was going and if Isaac was coming with them. Just as Stiles turned back to check the latter, he was passing the door to Derek's room. The door that was now open and which Derek was just walking through.

"Oof," Stiles let out as he ran right into Derek's body.

_ Oh. Naked. _ Stiles' mind supplied when his eyes drifted lower, and when he noticed the lack of a tee that would normally be covering Derek's chest. His eyes caught sight of the towel around Derek's waist and Stiles gulped, unable to move his eyes from what his brain described as  _ skin, so much skin _ . Which was really unhelpful and Stiles had a moment of hating his brain a tiny bit.

"I, yeah," Derek muttered, caught off guard just as much as Stiles. "Excuse me," he added and rushed past Stiles into the bathroom, then locked it with a determined click.

"That went… well," Stiles deadpanned, his eyes on the bathroom door.

"At least he wasn't completely naked?" Isaac offered as a consolation.

Stiles could feel the heat in his cheeks rising, so he turned back towards the door, and he walked out to find Scott waiting by the elevator.

"I'll meet you guys downstairs," Isaac mumbled and headed for the stairs instead.

"Yeah, Scotty, considering the speed of that thing, you're on your own," Stiles said, and he smirked before following Isaac down the staircase.

Lunch turned out to be just what Stiles needed to stop his mind from drifting off from the sight of Derek's mostly naked body. On one hand, the last thing he wanted was to make things between Derek and him any more awkward and uncomfortable than than they already were. On the other hand, Stiles was now surer than ever that he did like girls  _ and _ guys.  

Not that he was going to get a chance to test his new -- or not so new, if he was honest with himself -- discovery. Because when he thought about it, his brain could only come up with Lydia or Derek as examples of people who were on his radar, and neither of them were likely to agree to Stiles' request for help with figuring things out.

When they got back to their room, Derek was yet again nowhere to be seen or heard, and Stiles got almost immediately dragged into a floor-wide CoD tournament. Thanks to the technical whiz kids on their floor -- well, Danny -- they had the network already set up, and gaming was something none of them were willing to decline. Not even when it meant getting their asses kicked by Cora and Kira.

Between gaming and the escalating number of tests and labs that Stiles had to keep on top of, it was almost a week before his brain revisited his encounters with Derek. He didn't think about any of them until he saw Derek again at a meeting for prospective members of the student council, which wasn't something that Stiles planned to get into at first.

"Cora, no, I'm drowning in textbooks," Stiles whined when Cora was pretty much dragging him by the ear into the council's meeting room.

"Shut up, Stiles, no one is making you sign a blood oath," Danny commented from behind them. "Most of us are on the council. Just sit in on this and see if you want to join in, okay?"

" _ Fine _ ," Stiles said, knowing he had no other choice.

He grudgingly sat down at the back of the room where most of the people from their floor were already seated, and leaned against a wall. Scott, to Stiles' surprise, was deep in conversation with Allison, Kira, and Isaac, all of them looking like it wasn't their first time at a meeting. Lydia had taken up a spot at the front along with Laura and Jordan, and Cora sat down nearby, shooting Stiles a warning glance like she was expecting him to dash for the exit.

"Yo, animals, shut up so we can get this over with!" Cora yelled, and immediately earned herself what Stiles started calling the patented Hale glare.

The room quieted, and Laura -- who turned the glaring level down somewhat -- stood up and glanced around the room.

"Okay, we've newbies, so a quick rundown on what we do," she said, addressing Stiles and all the other freshmen. "Disciplinary action is a big thing -- we sit in on meetings with the Dean and the disciplinary committee. School rules and regulations are something we get to have a small say in. Not on the same level as the school administration, but it's good to have a voice. Newspaper is our responsibility too, and Braeden," Laura pointed to the dark-skinned girl in the back corner of the room," is who is currently the editor in chief. We're not journalism students, so it's more fun than a matter of prestige, but it's pretty popular around the school. And then there's the topic of today's meeting, which is the Freshmen Inauguration Ball."

"Questions?" Lydia looked around the room, pausing to see if anyone wanted to clarify things.

When no one spoke, Jordan started talking about plans for the ball, which Stiles was somewhat intrigued by, not that he was admitting it just yet. But as the meeting went on, he realized that he spoke up with suggestions more often than he expected himself to. He said even more when the discussion split up into smaller groups, each focused on a part of the organization process. But it was one of those moments, and he was talking to Jordan about possibilities for a raffle alternative, that Derek walked into the room. Stiles would have missed it, his attention firmly on explaining an idea that he thought might work, if it wasn't for the fact that Derek made a beeline for Jordan immediately.

"Sorry I'm late," Derek apologized and fell into an empty chair.

"Finstock being a hardass in lab?" Jordan asked.

"No, Harris was subbing," Derek grunted, and everyone who heard him cringed.

"What's the guy's problem, anyway?" Stiles asked, wincing at the memory of his own encounters with the professor. "The guy hates  _ Scott _ , how is that even possible?"

"I wouldn't take any of that personally," Aiden turned to Stiles. "He failed Ethan and  _ Laura _ , and almost Lydia, though she got herself transferred out of his class before he could."

"She would," Stiles couldn't help but smirk.

"So, what were you talking about?" Derek asked, bringing them back on topic.

"Stiles had an idea to switch the raffle for an auction," Jordan said.

All of a sudden, even though just moments earlier he was the center of attention anyway, Stiles felt like he was under a microscope. Derek's eyes met his own, and Stiles tried to fight the urge to look to the floor.

"Ah, remember we checked with the administration last year about that?" Derek said to Jordan, though his eyes only darted away from Stiles for a second.

"Shit, yeah, we can't do that," Aiden responded instead of Jordan. "We can't hold money on the premises, and there's a chance that people might want to pay cash, so that wouldn't work."

"Was worth a try," Stiles shrugged. "What are you guys doing about prizes?"

That sparked an explanation of the sponsor system and prizes donated for the raffle, plus how the companies they'd approached financed the entire ball, since the council was non-profit.

By the end of the meeting, Stiles was pretty sure he'd be applying to become a member of the council. He wasn't sure if he would go for a specific part of it, but Cora was right: everyone on their floor was in, and there was enough to lure Stiles in. When he asked Scott and Isaac about it once they got back to their room, they both nodded with enthusiasm, along with Allison and Kira who have somehow ended up in the boys' room instead of their own. That settled, Stiles attempted to get back to finishing a lab report he'd left on his table, but his mind drifted to Derek more often than he could really afford it to.

In the week that followed, Stiles did talk to Cora and Jordan about being a member of the student council. He found out that he didn't even need to get voted in, as it was running on a voluntary basis, and they were happy to have him on board. Before he had a chance to adjust, he was on the sponsors committee for the upcoming ball and on the phone to his Dad to see if the Beacon Hills Police Force would be on board.

"Yo Daddy-o," Stiles greeted his Dad. "So, how are things on the other side of the valley?"

"Son," the Sheriff replied. "You were home last weekend."

"Things might have changed," Stiles said.

"Sure," John laughed. "No, wait, there are exciting news, actually."

"Did you finally ask Melissa out?"

Scott's Mom had been like a surrogate parent to Stiles ever since his own Mom passed away, and Stiles had a bet running with Scott about when their parents would finally get together. There had been attempts to push them towards each other, but the Sheriff and Melissa seemed to be immune to those.

"What?  _ Stiles _ ," John's frustration was clear in his voice.

"Come on, Dad, it would be perfect, Scott and I would  _ finally _ be bros for real," Stiles grinned.

"Why are you calling, kiddo? It's not the right time for a random social call," John changed the topic. "Are you out of clean laundry  _ already _ ?"

"Dad, I was home last weekend!" Stiles protested.

"Exactly," John laughed. "So, what's going on?"

"Well, I got talked into being on the student council," Stiles started explaining. "And we're organizing the inauguration ball. So I'm calling to see if the distinguished and beloved police force would like to be on the sponsor list."

"Beloved, eh?" John said with amusement. "I'm guessing this is Jordan's doing?"

"Are you saying we have ulterior motives?" Stiles bristled.

"Can't say it didn't cross my mind," John replied. "But as things are, we have been sponsors in the past, and I'll look into it. Is that good enough for now, kid?"

"Yeah, that would be awesome, Dad," Stiles grinned. "Thank you."

"Happy to help, son," John replied. "How are you managing the school load with the council, kid?"

"It's not too bad and Scotty's on too," Stiles rushed to say. "Most of the older people help us a lot with test and stuff."

"That's good. How's Derek?"

"Whoa, Dad, non sequitur much?" Stiles asked.

"Just wondering, kiddo, unless there's something you need to tell me?" The amusement in John's voice was clear.

"Yeaaaaaah," Stiles drawled and he paused for a few beats. "So, remember that time you nearly arrested me at The Jungle?"

Stiles thought back on the year before, when he was a senior in BHHS and just after he turned eighteen, Scott -- being the best friend that he was -- dragged him out for a night of dancing. Or at least that was what they'd planned to do; only Scott didn't realize that he'd brought Stiles to the only gay club in the area.

"You mean the time when you tried to tell me you were at a  _ gay _ club because you were supporting Danny after a break-up?"

"Yup, that," Stiles replied. "But I was hinting more at the conversation before I explained that."

"Well, first of all, son, the excuse wasn't holding up then and it's not holding up now," John laughed. "I know you weren't there for Danny."

Stiles spluttered and tried to find words to defend himself, and to possibly try to sway his Dad into believing the reason he gave him at the time.

"But if you're hinting at me being wrong about you possibly being gay," John started, and after a pause added more quietly, "you know I love you, no matter what, Stiles, right?"

"Dad, I… thanks," Stiles' voice dropped to a whisper.

"So… Derek?"

"I don't know," Stiles said. "Maybe? I mean, I still like girls."

"But also boys," John stated, and Stiles knew his Dad wasn't looking for confirmation.

Still, he mumbled a "yeah", and then glanced quickly around the room and into the hallway to make sure no one was overhearing the conversation. For a split second he thought he saw movement from the direction of Derek's door, but then he brushed it off as a result of his overactive imagination. He finished the call soon after, only exchanging a few pleasantries and a final "just  _ ask _ her, Dad" comment to John about Melissa.

Since he had no plans for the rest of the afternoon that day, Stiles spent it trying hard to  _ not _ think about the conversation with his Dad. Not that it was easy, when he heard the soft click of Derek's door a little while later, followed by the front door closing. But asking Derek if he'd overheard Stiles' side of the phone call -- though he wanted to know -- was daunting. He was sure Derek would, at some point, ask  _ why _ Stiles was asking, and that was a conversation that Stiles was absolutely not prepared to have. Not with Derek, and not with anyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pajama party," Scott said without further explanation a few days later.

"Dude, context please?" Stiles looked up from his laptop, where he was attempting to work at his latest lab report.

" _ Howl _ is having a pajama party tonight," Scott spoke the full sentence.

The club where they had done the room assignment,  _ Howl _ , was known for themed parties across town and especially the college. Since it was run by students, they had to be careful to not have a reputation of a debauched and alcohol-filled dive. While they had specific nights when the bar that served alcohol was opened and admission was restricted to above legal drinking age, most nights, especially during the week, they only served nonalcoholic drinks. So early on in its existence, they set up a schedule of various themes for the clubbing nights -- there was an Oldies night, a Rock night, and perhaps the biggest hit with the dorms population was the Pajama Party that Scott mentioned.

"Yeah, I know, Aiden and Erica mentioned it a few times," Stiles grinned. "Why are  _ you _ so excited about it?"

Scott's ears turned crimson, as did his cheeks when he blurted out "Kira". It was then that Stiles mentioned Isaac standing behind Scott, and his blush was matching Scott's.

"Let me guess, Isaac, this is about Allison for you?" Stiles smirked. "How do you guys know that the girls are even going?"

"Apparently we all are," Scott shrugged. "It's supposed to be the best of the themed parties, and who doesn't want to lounge around in pajamas while partying?"

"Lydia," Stiles replied quicker than he meant to, and his cheeks heated up. "I mean, can you imagine someone like her dressing  _ down _ for a party?"

"Not to burst your bubble, bro," Scott's smirk promised nothing good, and his next words proved Stiles thought right. "Erica mentioned that Lydia usually wears something small and frilly."

Any words that Stiles might have had were stuck in his throat as he spluttered a few unintelligible sounds at the thoughts that Scott's comment caused.

"Hey, Der, you going to the PJ party, right?" Isaac interrupted Stiles' attempts to not fall off his chair then, addressing Derek who just walked into the hallway.

"Laura says I am," Derek shrugged, his expression betraying that he didn't really  _ want _ to, but that his sister would most likely win that particular fight.

"Dude, I've seen you come out of your room in the morning," Scott laughed. "Are you going to be there in your boxers only?"

Derek didn't reply until Stiles choked on air, the images of Lydia in a tiny nightgown accompanied by the memory of a sleep-ruffled Derek in next to nothing.

"Maybe," Derek grinned in Stiles' direction, and then he walked into his room like he didn't just make Stiles' mind implode.

" _ Fuuuuuuck _ ," Stiles breathed out a moment later, to Scott and Isaac's amusement.

"Dude, now you definitely have to go," Scott said when he stopped laughing. "You'd hate yourself for missing all that," he waved in the direction of Derek's room and the other side of their floor where Lydia's room was.

"I… what… shit," Stiles was still trying to catch his breath. "I have Batman pajamas," he said then in a defeated tone.

"Dude, that’s not even a big deal," Isaac chuckled. "Erica said she's going in a Catwoman onesie."

"Oh, okay then," Stiles said, though he still felt unsure.

"Come on, it'll be fun, you know it will," Scott's tone was coming dangerously close to pleading. "The guys are planning to cook for everyone before we go out, too."

"Free dinner?" Stiles perked up. "I'm down for that, definitely."

"Awesome!" Scott and Isaac grinned at each other. "We should get ready," Isaac added.

"Already?" Stiles asked. "It's…" he glanced at the clock on his screen, "shit, where did the time go?"

Before he could protest about anything else, like needing to finish his lab, Scott was tugging at his arm so he'd get up and get his pajamas on. A few minutes later, they were lounging on the couch in the kitchen, relegated to cleaning potatoes for the dinner that Jordan, Danny and surprisingly Cora were cooking. Stiles offered to help more, but they shooed him away, explaining they had everything under control. When the guys were about halfway through the pile of potatoes, the door suddenly opened and Stiles promptly dropped the piece he was holding, as Lydia marched in, followed by Allison, Erica and Kira.

"Oh," Scott muttered when he noticed that the girls were all in big, bulky sweaters and knee high socks, their hair pulled up in messy ponytails.

Stiles had his eyes glued at the space between the bottom edge of the sweater Lydia was wearing and the tops of the socks. Somehow, even though he'd seen the girls in more revealing clothing before, there was something about the way the clothes looked that had him sigh dreamily. No one else paid much attention -- until the girls glanced at each other, and with giggles that alerted the guys they tugged on the bottom edges of the sweaters to pull them off and reveal tiny shorts and tank tops that they were wearing underneath.

Isaac and Scott gasped and Stiles was pretty sure they were drooling, and he would've called them out on it, but he got distracted by Lydia in something shiny and soft-looking. Before he could recover from that, the door opened again, Derek peeked in, and then he walked in, wearing nothing but dark grey boxers. Stiles' breath caught, and his eyes fell to the bottom edge of the fabric, and the familiar yellow sign in the shape of a bat.

"Dude, you and Derek match," Scott said, obviously recovered from the sight of Kira in her pajamas.

"Shut up," Stiles hissed.

"It's cute, though," Erica piped up, chuckling. "Which one of you is my Batman, then?"

Derek's cheeks were tinted as he met Stiles' eye, but he shrugged way more nonchalantly than Stiles was sure he could manage. Instead of saying anything, he looked back down at the potato pile, and busied himself cleaning them again.

"Hey, need a hand?" Derek said a few minutes later, as he sat down next to Stiles.

"Huh, where'd Scott go?" Stiles said, realizing that the spot next to him had emptied at some point.

"Kira," Derek offered as an explanation.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, if you want," Stiles nodded towards the potatoes, though there were only a few left to clean. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought.

They finished up the pile in silence, Derek naturally quiet, Stiles lost for words because his brain was an incoherent mush of random words like  _ skin _ and  _ boxers _ and  _ hngh _ whenever he glanced in Derek's direction.

"So, uh, that's what you sleep in?" Stiles asked after Derek brought the potatoes to Jordan.

"If I have to," Derek replied, but his calm tone was betrayed by the way his ears reddened.

Stiles' eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped at the revelation. He searched his brain again for something coherent to say, but came up empty. Luckily, Laura saved him from the danger of embarrassing himself in any way -- blurting out about anything that his brain  _ was _ capable of forming into words would've been disastrous -- when she poked her head in and asked Derek to do something in her room. Stiles slumped back into the couch and finally managed to breathe without feeling like he was going to explode.

"So, Hale or Martin," Danny asked with a smirk just as Stiles was managing to control his brain's overactive imagination.

"Both. Both is good," he mumbled before he could think better of it, and Danny burst out into laughter next to him.

"I don't think Lydia would go for that, but you should ask her anyway," Danny said when he stopped laughing at Stiles' embarrassment, and then he got up and walked out.

"Kidding, I was  _ kidding _ ," Stiles called out after Danny with weak indignation.

Finally, when he once again managed to calm himself down, and when Scott barreled back into the room enquiring about dinner, Stiles shook his head and helped Jordan and Cora set up the pots so everyone could get their food. In perfect student fashion, none of their plates matched properly, and some of the people ended up eating straight from the pots, but the meal turned out delicious. Cora took the compliments with a mock curtsy, and a jab at the lack of input from the guys, who protested loudly. Even the girls from Erica and Allison's quarter came out, and brought a few bottles of wine, which was welcome and got Ethan to pull out a bottle of vodka he had stashed away.

"Pre-gaming is key," he said to everyone gathered in the crowded kitchen.

"I thought eating before a drinking session was key?" Erica laughed from the spot on the floor she claimed.

"Eh, I guess," Ethan shrugged and took a swig straight from the bottle.

By the time they decided it was time to walk over to the club, Stiles was already buzzed. Having lived under the Sheriff's roof eliminated most of his -- and Scott's -- attempts at underage drinking. The one time they'd snuck out a bottle of scotch, Stiles' Dad found them on the edge of the Preserve and dragged Stiles home before they could get properly drunk.

"Whoa," Stiles' jaw dropped when he saw just how many people made it out to the party. "Some of these people don't live in the dorms," he said when he spotted Greenberg, an old classmate of his from BHHS, dressed in pajamas like everyone else.

"It's an event," came a voice from behind Stiles' back and he jumped, and then turned to find Cora standing behind him with a grin. "Some people know someone at the dorms and change in their rooms; others drive here dressed for it."

"Yo, Stiles, dance with me?" Erica snuck up on them and tugged on the sleeve of Stiles' shirt. "No one else wants to," she pouted.

"Not even Boyd?" Stiles asked with a teasing grin.

Erica shook her head and grabbed Stiles' elbow.

"Come on," she said. "I wanna see your moves."

"Yeah, about that…" Stiles started, but she didn't give him a chance to say any more.

He knew that he wasn't the best dancer, but he tried, even if it looked like he was flailing around without direction. Erica took it in good humor and soon they were both cracking up in laughter on the dance floor, and watching everyone else in the room.

"You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you in middle school," Erica said when they paused to take a breath and moved to a quieter spot.

"Whoa, what?" Stiles almost spat out the water she'd pushed into his hand moments before.

"You wouldn't know, I don't think you had eyes for anyone but Scott then. Well, maybe Lydia, weren't you in love with her since like, kindergarten?" Erica asked and chuckled. "And it's not like anyone but the bullies noticed me then," she finished, and she threw a glance to Jackson, who was on the other side of the room with Lydia.

"Ah yeah,  _ him _ ," Stiles muttered, not caring if Erica could hear him over the noise. "You know, Isaac mentioned the other day that Jackson was the one who used to call my Dad, when…" Stiles started speaking a little louder, but then he paused, unsure if Isaac's story was common knowledge.

"Yeah, he said he bullied some of us so that others would leave us alone," Erica responded. "Maybe he's not all that bad."

"Lydia likes him, so I guess he's tolerable," Stiles acknowledged grudgingly.

"How is that crush of yours, by the way?" Erica asked. "Or have you completely moved on to Derek now?"

"W- ha-  _ what _ ?" Stiles stuttered, and looked at Erica in shock. "Doesn't matter anyway," he added then, when he caught his breath again. "It's not like I'm on his radar."

"You'd be surprised," Erica whispered into his ear, then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the dance floor again.

The night flew by fast, and while Stiles barely saw Scott or Isaac unless they were slow-dancing with Kira and Allison, he had a lot of fun with Erica, and later Boyd, Jordan, Ethan and Aiden. They pretty much took over one corner of the basement dance floor, the one next to what Stiles took to calling "Derek's bar". He spotted Derek a few times when the door opened occasionally, busying himself behind the bar, where Laura was manning the front for the night. Once or twice Stiles' heart stuttered when he thought he saw Derek looking in his direction, but he figured it was wishful thinking more than anything.

At least he thought so until closing time, when everyone started leaving, but Stiles was caught up in a conversation about comics with Boyd, both of them sitting cross-legged on top of the counter of the coat room.

"Come on, you two, get out so we can clean up," Laura huffed at them.

"Lies, all you want is to get everyone out so you guys can continue your private wipeout," Boyd smirked at her.

Stiles gave him a questioning look, and Boyd quickly explained that the people who were on duty in the club for the night usually stayed behind after closing to hang out. Laura then waved her hand at them and walked back to the bar -- for cleaning, Stiles guessed. The club was quiet, the regular customers long gone and the only ones left were the staff, Boyd and Stiles.

"What are you two still doing here?" Derek came up to them, and he sounded simply curious instead of annoyed like Laura was before.

That was all it took to pull him into the conversation that continued when Boyd got a call from Erica and left them alone. Stiles floated through the conversation, not entirely sure it was happening, but Derek and him kept switching topics and going off on tangents for what must have been hours. The next thing they knew, Aiden came over to let Derek know that everyone else was leaving and to lock up when they were done.

"Oh shit, it's almost six," Stiles groaned when he checked his phone. "I have a lecture in about an hour and a half," he sighed.

"Come on," Derek hopped off the counter and held out a hand to Stiles. "I'll make coffee."

Stiles smiled and offered a quiet "thanks", his mind catching up on the fact that Derek was still only in the boxers that he wore for the party and a tee with the club's logo.

"I should put some clothes on, too," Derek commented when they were walking up the stairs to their floor. "I have a lab at eight."

"Do you think I'd get away with being in the lecture like this?" Stiles pointed to his pajamas. "Getting dressed feels like so much  _ effort _ ."

"I don’t think it would be appreciated," Derek said with a laugh. "What if your lecturer is not a Batman fan?"

"Whoa, wait, no, that's not even possible!" Stiles glared at Derek. "Just  _ thinking _ it should be a crime, man. Batman is the  _ best _ ."

"Do you want to risk it, though?" Derek grinned.

"No," Stiles admitted grudgingly. "Guess I'll have to find clean clothes, then."

"You know there's a washing machine in the kitchen, right?"

"Two words: Purple. Shirt. That's all I've got," Stiles shrugged.

"You shouldn't judge the washing machine by Scott's lack of laundry experience," Derek said, laughing.

When they got to their floor and walked into their quarter, Derek excused himself to get dressed, and Stiles followed suit after they agreed to meet in the kitchen for coffee when they were ready. Less than fifteen minutes later, Stiles was pouring coffee into his travel mug while he kept talking to Derek with ease he didn't think they'd have. And even though Derek then walked with him from the dorms to their building, Stiles couldn't help but wonder, as he was sitting in his lecture unable to focus on the professor, if the whole thing really happened.

∞

Stiles was  _ bored _ . Scott and Isaac were out, trying to charm their girlfriends with a trip to San Francisco, and while Stiles totally wished them luck, it left him alone in their room with nothing to do. All his classes had a quiet post-midterms period when he didn't even have anything he'd need to study for -- which was why the guys decided on the day trip -- and playing CoD alone got boring about an hour in. He'd woken up early too, because of when Scott declared it necessary to leave. It wasn't even lunch time and Stiles was staring at the empty footpaths under their balcony, trying to come up with a plan.

"Could you  _ stop _ stomping around the room, please?" Derek's voice came from the other half of the balcony after Stiles made the third trip back outside.

"Sorry, man," Stiles apologized immediately. "I'm  _ bored _ ."

"I figured that much," Derek said leaning over the railing. "Can't you play a game or something?"

"It's not fun alone," Stiles replied, sounding borderline whiny. "I don't remember it being as bad when I used to play in high school."

He sat down on the couch and turned his head to face Derek, who was watching Stiles with a mixture of frustration and amusement. Stiles wondered if Derek would join him for a game or two.

"No, can't," Derek said and smirked when Stiles' cheeks heated up as the realization hit that he spoke his thoughts out loud. "I have to work on my thesis, which is why you pacing and stomping is  _ not fun _ for me."

"I could help?" Stiles offered. "I can type fast, so I could have you dictate stuff and… I mean, it'd save you some work and all."

"Stiles," Derek shook his head with amusement and exasperation. "Why don't you check in with Malia or Danny?"

"Caitlin doesn't like me," Stiles deflated when Derek mentioned the girls who lived on their floor in the same quarter as Erica and Allison.

"She's out, Braeden mentioned that she was going to go home this weekend," Derek said.

"Cool, yeah okay, I'll go do that," Stiles said, but he made no move to get up off the couch.

"Stiles," Derek let out another exasperated sigh.

"I just, I've got nothing against anyone in that quarter,  _ obviously _ ," Stiles said, thinking of how Erica would probably be pretty good company right about then, but she was away for the weekend as well. "But Malia is… I don't want to give her false hope, that's all."

"What false hope would you give her by hanging out with her?" Derek asked incredulously.

"Did I at any point seem interested in her?" Stiles asked instead of replying.

Derek shook his head, and for a moment or two Stiles' mind wandered to just how much Derek was noticing him. But then he sighed and started explaining.

"There was a thing last week, when we were all over in Jordan's room," Stiles frowned, remembering Caitlin's less than friendly glares. "We were just messing around and hanging out, you know? And Aiden was bragging about how roomy his sleeping bag is, so I made him a bet about how two people wouldn't fit comfortably."

"Of course you did," Derek laughed.

"But anyway, Malia volunteered and then I did too, in the name of science, and dude, the sleeping bag is  _ huge _ on the inside," Stiles said almost reverently.

"I'm guessing she took your volunteering to be pressed against her in a small space a little differently than  _ science _ ," Derek said, and his lips turned into a smirk.

"Yup," Stiles nodded. "She's been sitting with me at lunch, and asked if we could study together," he sighed a little overdramatically. "We don't even have anything to study for right now."

"I don't know whether to laugh or offer you my sympathies," Derek chuckled. "Why don't you go for it, though, she seems okay."

"Yeah, I kind of tend to fall more for the type that does  _ not _ show any interest in me," Stiles sighed. "It's a curse, really."

"Like Lydia?"

"I'm gonna  _ kill _ Scott," Stiles growled. "That's not information that anyone but him should know."

Derek burst out in laughter at that, and Stiles was torn between enjoying Derek's happy face -- even if it was laughter at Stiles' expense -- and wanting to pout because he was being laughed at.

"You do realize that Lydia also knows about your crush on her, right?" Derek said when his laughter eased off into a smile.

"I don't though," Stiles protested. "I mean, she'll always be Queen Lydia, and if I had even the tiniest hint of a chance, I'd probably go for it, but I'm not… I don't… it's not  _ her _ anymore."

"Oh?" Derek raised an eyebrow with curiosity.

"And on that embarrassing note," Stiles squirmed and got up from the couch. "I'm going to go harass Danny for a while, I think. Or Cora. Hey, Cora didn't go anywhere this weekend, did she?"

"No, she didn't," Derek replied. "You'd voluntarily spend time with her, though?"

"Worth a try," Stiles said, and he waved to Derek. "Hey, do you want to do lunch together later? I was thinking of heading down to the diner."

"Yeah, I guess," Derek shrugged. "I could probably do with a break in a while. Please don't let Cora just barge into my room, though."

With another quick wave, Stiles rushed into his room and grabbed his phone, checking to see if he missed anything at all. It was disappointingly empty of messages, texts, and emails though, so he walked out to see if he could talk Cora into hanging out. But when he knocked on their door -- he'd learned early on not to just walk into that particular quarter -- there was no answer. So he took the few steps to the side and instead of politely knocking like he did at the girls' door, he threw the door to Jordan, Boyd, Danny, and Ethan's quarter open. 

"Yo, guys!" Stiles called out from the hallway, and immediately heard the responding growl from the double room. "Not you, Jackson!" Stiles said as he passed by the door that was cracked open just enough to let sounds through.

"Stiles, no," Jordan grumbled when Stiles marched into the triple.

"Stiles yes," Stiles immediately shot back. "Wait, no what? Why no? I only just said hi," he rambled as he looked around the suspiciously quiet room. "Where is everyone?"

"Out," Jordan said without looking at Stiles.

"Dude, what is it this weekend? Why did everyone leave?" Stiles said with a dramatic sigh and let himself fall on one of the beds. "Hey, how's Aiden's fish tank holding up?"

Jordan grunted something that Stiles couldn't decipher, so Stiles peeked over the edge of the bed he was lying on. The "fish tank" was what they started calling Aiden's spot on the floor where he set up an air mattress and his sleeping bag. Even Aiden himself used the name when he was referring to his sleeping spot, which made Stiles a little proud for coming up with it.

"Stiles," Jordan breathed out, the familiar look of exasperation in his face when he turned to Stiles. "Boyd went home with Erica, Ethan and Aiden are home, and Danny is being introduced to the parenting units," Jordan rattled off. "It's just me and Jackson until Monday morning."

"Shit," Stiles sighed. "No one else is around," he said, and was determined to never acknowledge just how whiny he was beginning to sound.

"Cora?" Jordan asked and Stiles shook his head, and then repeated the response when Jordan brought up Malia.

"Fine, I'll leave you to studying," Stiles said after a moment of being glared at. "I'm clearly not welcome."

"Any other time, Stiles," Jordan called out. "When I don't have my professors after my ass for my labs and shit."

Stiles muttered quietly how he wasn't going to hold his breath, because Derek had said something eerily similar. When his mind wandered to Derek, though, Stiles glanced at his phone to check the time, and decided that lunch was about close enough that he could justify dragging Derek out to eat.

"Hey, sourwolf, want to get some food?" Stiles said through Derek's door just loudly enough to be heard, but quiet enough so he wouldn't make Derek angry.

A moment later the door opened a tiny bit and Derek looked out, then muttered "two minutes, just need to save this" before he disappeared back into his room. Stiles leaned against the hallway wall, and let his mind wander -- enough to pass the time, not enough to let it go too crazy with possible  _ other _ and not school related reasons for the disheveled state of Derek's hair that Stiles saw on him when Derek appeared.

"How many curly fries can you eat without exploding?" Derek asked when they were seated in the diner, after he heard Stiles' order for an extra large portion. "Or without ruining them for yourself?"

"The exploding thing is more likely than me getting tired of curly fries, Derek," Stiles said with all the seriousness he could muster. "There is no such thing as too many curly fries."

"I don't know," Derek smirked. "I feel like I've eaten too many for the rest of my life and that's just from  _ watching _ you."

"Stop watching me then," Stiles laughed.

Derek rolled his eyes and glanced to the counter, and then his eyes turned back to Stiles.

"So, how are classes for you?"

"Small talk? That's what we're doing?" Stiles asked.

"Got better ideas?" Derek shot back, and made it sound like a challenge.

"Oh, plenty," Stiles smiled brightly. "But I'm not sure they're topics you'd be interested in."

"Well, if you wanted to discuss all things that are amazing about Lydia Martin, I'm afraid I'll have to pass," Derek teased, and Stiles couldn't stop his cheeks from heating up.

"I… what…  _ no _ ," he blurted. "That's not… she's not… just  _ no _ ."

Before Stiles had a chance to change the topic or defend himself more, their order was called out and Derek got up to grab it. Stiles immediately zeroed in on the curly fries and stuffed his mouth to prevent himself from talking more.

The rest of their lunch passed in companionable silence, which surprised Stiles, because he usually felt the need to fill any conversation gaps with rambling. But with Derek, it somehow seemed unnecessary and they only exchanged a few words before they finished their meals.

"I have to get back," Derek said then, and shifted in his seat to get up.

"Oh, okay," Stiles' shoulders slumped a bit, and he looked down with disappointment. "Guess I'll go and see if anyone is back yet."

Derek was still looking at him when Stiles looked up from the floor.

"Then again," Derek started, "I could use a change of topic for a while."

Stiles grinned, and without giving Derek a chance to back out, he started rambling about a new game that Isaac brought but that they didn't get a chance to test out yet.

"I mean, it's new, so I don't know it yet," Stiles explained. "That means that you might actually stand a chance against me."

Derek quirked an eyebrow up but he didn't say anything as Stiles rambled on while they were walking back to the dorms. An hour into playing not only the new game, Stiles had to admit that Derek was more than a worthy opponent.

"We're doing this again," Stiles said during a lull in their gameplay.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Derek's smile, and it was enough right then.


	5. Chapter 5

Exams began looming faster than Stiles expected, but not before the freshmen ball was due to take place. Not that the professors, especially in the freshman classes, let Stiles or any of the others who were helping with the ball off the hook. He had tests, lab reports  _ and _ the beginnings of panic when it came to exams themselves to battle in between running errands for the student council. The week before the ball was the most hectic one, since one of their decoration supply companies bailed and they had to figure out a way to replace everything they were supposed to get.

"Mom is on good terms with one of the guys in  _ Flowers-R-Us _ ," Scott mentioned during an emergency council meeting.

His contribution meant that Stiles was driving across Beacon Hills with his Jeep loaded with bouquets of flowers, attempting to not sneeze from the overload of pollen. Scott got out of the drive because the amount of flowers could trigger his asthma, so Stiles had Cora for company.

"So, Stiles," Cora started about halfway through the drive, and Stiles immediately tensed.

"Yes, Cora?"

"You got a thing for my brother?" Cora asked bluntly, with a teasing smirk on her face.

"W-what?" Stiles almost swerved the jeep at the unexpected question.

"Oh come on, it can be seen from space," Cora laughed. "Not that Derek has noticed anything, though."

Stiles felt his hands on the steering wheel relax a little at Cora's comment, but the tension didn't leave him completely. He could deny it, of course, but he could already hear Cora joking about him protesting too much in his head, so he didn't try. Not saying anything felt like an admission, and Stiles wasn’t that good at being honest with himself about things like this.

"I, what,  _ no _ ," he said. "Why would you… why are you even asking?"

"Because maybe I can help?" Cora smiled sweetly.

"What's in it for you?" Stiles asked a moment later, when his mind stopped spinning with how engaging Cora in even a conversation like this could prove dangerous.

Cora shrugged. "Derek hasn't had the best time until now, and I want him happy."

"That's a big assumption," Stiles said. "I mean, that  _ I _ could make him happy," he explained when Cora shot him a questioning look.

"Look, Derek doesn't open up to people easily," Cora said.

"Yeah, I noticed," Stiles mumbled quietly.

"But he has been talking to you, a lot," she added. "The only people he hung out with until recently were those who knew him before…"

Her words cut off and Stiles could feel her discomfort with how much she shared with him, though she didn't say all that much. Stiles had already figured before that there was an ex who roomed with Cora and Laura, and that it didn't go well. But he didn't want to ask Derek for details without getting them voluntarily, so he was still confused about what Cora was referring to.

Though of course he knew about the arson at the Hale house, and how Kate Argent had been involved. From a few snippets of conversation and off-hand remarks from people who knew Derek before the arson, it seemed that Derek was somehow involved. But as he'd mentioned to Danny back on the first day at the dorms, the Sheriff had gone to unusual lengths to keep any and all information on the entire case from Stiles.

"Cora?" Stiles asked a little while later, breaking the silence that took over the car.

"Yeah?" Cora glanced over, but then turned back to the window she was staring out until Stiles spoke.

"Why me?" Stiles questioned. "I mean, it's Derek, there's no way no one else is interested so it can't just be that I'm the  _ only _ option. I know for a fact that Braeden had her eyes set on him, so why not her? Is he even into guys? Was he ever  _ with _ a guy? Seriously, though, why  _ me _ ? Even if he was in any way remotely interested, even if  _ I _ was interested," Stiles heard Cora snort when he said that, and he couldn't help the blush that rose in his cheeks. "Derek's way out of my league and I doubt he'd be into inexperienced barely legal freshmen anyway."

"Are you done?" Cora asked when Stiles' rambling stopped.

"Yeah, I… yeah," he sighed, and he glanced at her.

Cora was looking out of the window again, and Stiles studied her expressions for a moment, since they were stopper at a red light. She looked a little frustrated, partly amused, but when he didn’t miss was the fondness in her face that he saw before -- always when Cora was talking about Derek or Laura.

"He's… I  _ will _ kill you in a very inventive and  _ extremely _ painful way if you ever tell anyone that I said what I'm about to say," Cora growled, but then her face softened again. "I can't tell you details of things in the past, it's not my story to tell. But Derek is… he's had bad luck. Not that he'll acknowledge that it wasn't anything else but that. He thinks it's his fault… the arson, Kate, and then there was another girl who was multiple shades of wrong for him."

"Wait, Kate and Derek?" Stiles' eyes flew wide open, but he didn't look away from the road.

"Not my story to tell," Cora repeated. "He might tell you eventually. What I know is that it wasn't his fault, but Laura and I have tried and failed on that front.  _ We _ don't think he should feel guilty."

"That still doesn't explain why me of all people," Stiles said quietly, his mind spinning with the information he just heard and with everything that it might mean.

"Brae is interested, you're right," Cora said, and Stiles frowned. "But she's… not that it's a bad thing, but she's not staying. She's finished this year, and I know her plans are to get as far away from California as possible. And a friends-with-benefits thing… it might be good for Der for now, but not in the long term."

"Cora, I…" Stiles sighed. "Look, thank you. But as much as I trust your judgment, and as much as I think that you know what's best for Derek, I'm going to say no to your offer to help," Stiles finished and let out the breath he was holding.

"Why?" Cora asked, but Stiles noticed the lack of anger in her tone.

"Because I still don't know why you think I'm the best option," Stiles started quietly. "Because I don't want Derek to feel in any way like he's being forced into something that he might not want at all. Because Derek and I are just starting to be  _ friends _ , and I like that. Because if you interfered, Derek would end up being angry at both of us."

"Good choice," Cora laughed.

Stiles pulled into the parking spot by the school that they'd just arrived at, and looked at her with a glare.

"Wait, was that a test?" Stiles asked, and his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

"This is why," Cora said, sounding relaxed and not at all like she found their conversation strange at all. "You asked why you, and what you just said is exactly why. You know my brother better than anyone besides Laura or me. And Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you care," Cora said softly. "Not just about Derek, but about people in general. Derek would be lucky to have someone like you in his life."

Before Stiles could respond to that, Cora slipped out of the car and headed for the front door to get some of the guys to help them unload the flowers. By the time Jordan and Ethan appeared, Stiles was still sitting in the Jeep, and he was trying to catch his breath. Just as he finally moved to get out, Derek walked out of the building and Stiles promptly tripped over his own feet and almost landed on the ground.

"Let's get this show on the road," Cora yelled from the door, and her eyes found Stiles'.

"Not sure I should try helping," Stiles mumbled. "I'm obviously a hazard to myself, let alone the poor flowers. Also, I drove them here, so…"

"Aaaand he's back," Cora laughed. "Thought I rendered you speechless there."

"Not that lucky," Stiles smirked, though he could still feel the tremors of nervousness underneath his skin.

Cora grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the school -- the ball was talking place in the big hall that the college used for anything from events like the ball to sports events -- and Stiles heard her continued chuckling. He dared glancing back to the guys who started unloading the flowers, and when his eyes met Derek's, Stiles quickly looked away, his cheeks burning. The short look was enough for him to notice Derek's confused expression, but Stiles hoped it would be all forgotten by the time he'd get a chance to talk to Derek again.

∞

"I can't do this," Scott growled with frustration and threw himself on top of his bed. "This is impossible and I can't  _ do this _ . I'm not doing this."

"Jeez, I thought Stilinski was the drama queen around here," Jackson's voice came from the hallway in response to Scott's outburst.

"Shut up, Whittemore," Stiles growled, and then he huffed in frustration that mirrored Scott's.

"You two are impossible," Isaac laughed. "Scott, come here," he pointed to where he was standing, and watched as Scott reluctantly got off the bed and stomped over. "Kira is going to kill you if you don’t wear the tie."

"No, she's not," Stiles said from where he was standing.

"Okay, maybe not, because she's not  _ Lydia _ , but Scott, think of how glad she'll be that you did," Isaac insisted, and he grinned when Scott's face scrunched with a frown.

"She did pick it," Scott conceded, and he handed the tie to Isaac.

A moment later, Scott was staring at a perfectly knotted tie, and Isaac was glancing over to Stiles, who was still fumbling with his.

"I don't even  _ have _ a girl to be dressing up for, this isn't fair," Stiles grumbled. "It's not like I'll be breaking a matching outfit if I don't wear mine, so what's the point?"

"The point is that there's a dress code," Derek said from the hallway. "And you won't get inaugurated if you're not wearing the appropriate outfit."

Stiles froze with his fingers on the tie that was resisting his attempts to knot it. The grin in Derek's face took a moment to register, but when Stiles spotted it, he shot Derek a glare.

"Not funny," he said. "I actually believed you for a while."

"I hoped you would," Derek laughed. "The look in your face was priceless. Now, come here," he said and waved Stiles over.

"Seriously, what is the point of ties, they're making me choke and I look stupid in the suit as it is, no need to be putting a leash on me," Stiles grumbled as he walked over to Derek. "I don't even know if it matches my suit or if Lydia is going to hit me for wearing something that can't be allowed anywhere near her. And then I won't be able to sit anywhere near any of you so my tie doesn't offend her all night."

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek said, but there was no heat in his words. "The tie looks nice, it matches your suit fine, and it makes  _ you _ look nice."

"Huh," Stiles managed to blurt out.

His mind spun when Derek grabbed the tie and slipped it around the collar of Stiles' shirt. Then his fingers brushed Stiles' neck, and Stiles stood there frozen, afraid to move or even breathe, because he didn't want to break the moment. Not that he thought anyone besides him was having a moment, but while Derek was knotting the tie around Stiles' neck, there was nothing but white noise in Stiles' ears.

"There, all done," Derek whispered, and Stiles opened his eyes with surprise.

"Thank you," he replied, and when his eyes met Derek's, Stiles gulped nervously.

"Are we ready to go now?" Jackson said loudly, impatience seeping through each word.

Stiles snapped out of the moment at that, and he chanced one more look at Derek, who seemed just as dazed. Then he turned away and his eyes found Scott, who was staring at Stiles with a raised eyebrow and clearly fighting a teasing smirk.

'Don't,' Stiles mouthed at him.

It was barely a day after his conversation with Cora, and while Stiles was still questioning everything she said, he was nowhere near ready to be talking about it with anyone, including his best friend. Scott nodded in response and without saying much else they slowly made their way out of their room.

"Hey, so, are we picking up everyone else, or are they meeting us there?" Stiles asked.

He knew he wasn't the only one not being paired up -- everyone on their floor technically agreed to go as a group, since they were on the council and therefore would have obligations beyond just attending.  But despite the plan, there were some people who did pair up: Scott and Kira, Isaac and Allison, Boyd and Erica, Danny and Ethan, and to everyone's shock Jackson and Lydia. Or almost everyone, because Stiles and Scott talked about how it was a matter of time before those two stopped dancing around each other  _ again _ and gave in to the inevitability of admitting they wanted to be together.

Aside from those couples, Caitlin and Laura were bringing their boyfriends, Cora mentioned something about a girlfriend whom she invited -- it was still early days in their dating, but Cora said she wanted to have a worthy dance partner.  Stiles cringed when he remembered the conversation with Malia earlier in the week, the girl clueless to his lack of interest as she asked him to go with her anyway. In the end, it was Jordan who saved him from giving her a flat out refusal when he suggested the option of going as a group. They reserved tables near each other so they could all sit together and no one would be left as the odd woman or man out.

"Most of them are already there," Derek replied to Stiles' question. "Lydia and Laura are probably terrorizing the DJ by checking his playlist selection for suitability, Cora was supposed to pick up her and Laura's dates, and the others were helping with setting up."

"I'm surprised Lyds didn't insist on everyone being there for the set up," Stiles mused.

He was walking near Derek, since Scott and Isaac were rushing ahead to meet the girls, and Jackson was trailing behind, his head bent down to his phone.

"I wouldn't be that happy about it," Derek laughed. "We'll be the ones expected to clean up afterwards."

"But that will be in the middle of the night!" Stiles said.

"Or early in the morning, depending on how long people last," Derek shrugged.

"That's not fair!" Stiles protested. "That's blatant abuse of power on her part, I'll be tired and I have exams soon so I should really leave early to study and…"

His voice faded out when he spotted Derek giving him a look that was a mixture of amusement and disapproval -- though the amusement was stronger.

"Really? I'd like to see you  _ try _ leaving early," Derek laughed.

"I  _ could _ ," Stiles said with a pout. "I should, actually, because I have the stupid Health and Safety test on Monday and the first aid questions are tripping me up  _ all the time _ ," he winced.

"I'm doing that one with you guys, actually," Derek said and Stiles' head snapped up from the ground.

"What, why?"

"It needs to be refreshed every few years," Derek explained. "I didn't need to do mine in freshman year because I'd done it in New York. But it's expiring soon, and I can't take the one class I've left next semester without it."

Stiles nodded to acknowledge the explanation.

"We could study together," Derek offered.

Stiles almost tripped on air, but Derek's arm shot out and steadied him.

"Yeah, that would," Stiles mumbled. "That would be cool; I mean if you would be okay with that, because I don't know how good a study partner I am. But I'd definitely appreciate the help."

"Stiles, I wouldn't suggest it if I wasn't okay with it," Derek laughed. "It will be nice to not study alone, anyway."

"Easier, too, we can quiz each other and I hope you won't judge my caffeine intake because it might take a while until I'm ready for the test," Stiles rambled, looking pointedly at the ground because he felt his cheeks burning.

"It's a date," Derek said quietly enough that Stiles wondered for a moment if he heard it or if he was just imagining it.

Before he could figure it out, Derek was walking into the school building and holding the door open for Stiles and for Jackson who caught up with them by then. Immediately after they walked up the one flight of stairs and reached the student council office, Stiles got pulled away to help with the coat room. He didn't have time to dwell on the conversation with Derek until about an hour after the ball was in full swing, when people stopped ducking in and out of the coat room for whatever they'd left in the pockets.

"How hard is it to keep the ticket to the event you're attending  _ in your hand _ ?" Stiles groaned, addressing Isaac who hummed in agreement.

He let his forehead drop on the counter in front of him. "I mean, you're going to be asked for it, why would you leave it in your  _ coat _ ?"

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat at the entrance to the coat room, and Stiles' head shot up.

"Oh hi Derek," Stiles grinned, but then his face dropped when Derek looked sheepishly at the floor. "Ticket. Coat pocket." Stiles stated when he realized the reason for Derek's expression.

"I'm sorry," Derek blushed.

Stiles was determined to ignore how cute the color looked on Derek's cheeks and the tips of his ears, because he wasn't going down that road right then. Or ever.

"Stiles, it's your turn," Isaac said from his spot on the edge of the counter.

The room was too small for the amount of coats that they had stashed away, and Stiles groaned quietly when he realized that Derek's would be somewhere at the back. But, determined to not let himself get distracted, Stiles pushed his way to the back row, between other coats, and looked for his own coat that he knew was easier to spot than Derek's black one. When he emerged a little while later, he didn't miss the raised eyebrow or the way Derek's eyes widened at Stiles' disheveled hair.

"I know, I know, I'll fix it before I go anywhere that people can actually see me," Stiles mumbled as he tried to pat down his hair.

"No, it’s…" Derek started, but then he swallowed and nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, probably for the best, because Lydia."

'Because Lydia' was the reason Stiles even bothered being concerned with how his hair or clothes looked, if anyone was to ask him. Not because he'd want to impress her, like everyone around him would probably assume -- well, not entirely -- but because she insisted that every last person in their group had to look good enough to meet her standards. Or at the very least, they all had to look presentable according to her lowest expectations. Stiles wasn't fooling himself into believing that his usual dress code was even remotely touching on those, but he allowed Erica and Cora to help him pick his suit, so he hoped he'd avoid Lydia's scathing looks and disapproving head shakes.

"Here, your coat," Stiles lifted his hand towards Derek. "I hope the ticket  _ is _ there."

"Well, I'm sneaking in through the back if it isn't," Derek sighed. "I'm not walking all the way to my room to get it."

"What, you mean the entire ten minutes that it takes to walk there  _ and back here _ ?" Isaac smirked from the side.

"Yep," Derek said.

"How do you not get in without it, anyway?" Stiles asked. "You're on like, four committees that organized this thing."

"Three," Derek replied. "But that isn't enough for Mr. Perfectionist Parrish."

" _ Jordan _ made you go back for the ticket?" Stiles gaped. "Off all people, I'd have expected Lydia or Cora… though your sister would likely do it to torture you, not because she'd need you to…"

Stiles paused and his brain was almost buzzing with thoughts. He didn't know who was at the entrance checking tickets besides Jordan, who'd volunteered the same way Stiles did for the coat room. But he knew that at least one other person was supposed to always be there, because they had a money box for the raffle tickets at the desk. Having mentioned Cora, and remembering their talk the day before, Stiles couldn't help but wonder if she was there too.

"Now that you mention it, Laura was there with him, and they're probably now laughing at me for coming back here," Derek sighed.

"Well, if you need help with payback…" Stiles said.

He was glad to see the direction that Derek's thoughts were going, because his own mind was coming up with ways to pay Cora back. Stiles had very little doubt that Derek being sent back to the coat room -- a spot that was assigned to Stiles on pretty much day one of organizing the jobs they all had during the ball -- was not just a simple joke from Laura or Jordan. Cora was meddling, Stiles was sure of it, and he'd need to talk to her as soon as he got the chance.

"Ah, here it is," Derek said victoriously as he pulled the ticket out of a pocket. "I can hold on to this, if you don't want to face the wall of coats."

"It's okay, I'll send Isaac, it's his turn anyway," Stiles grinned and took the coat out of Derek's hands.

"Wait, what?" Isaac's eyes snapped up from his phone, where he was undoubtedly reading texts from Allison.

"Your turn," Stiles said with a grin, and put Derek's coat into Isaac's lap.

Then he leaned against the counter again, and tried hard not to watch Derek walking out of the room after they said a quick "see you inside". Isaac frowned, but a moment later he was slipping between the coat racks to put Derek's coat back into its place.

∞

"Stiles, come on!" Erica glared at him from the door of the coat room. "Look, Aiden is here to handle the coats, so you can shelve that excuse," she said and pointed to Aiden who came up to her.

"But…" Stiles tried to protest, and his hands flailed around in a gesture not even he knew the meaning of.

"You  _ have _ to, else you're not going to be inaugurated, and for all you know you'll get kicked out for not having appropriate student status," Erica said, and Stiles felt a hint of panic rise in his chest.

"Wait, what,  _ really _ ?" he asked, and then he noticed the hints of a smile on Erica and Aiden's lips. "You're a liar. Filthy and rude liar," he grunted.

"What are you so afraid of anyway?" Erica frowned. "It's not like it's anything but a show for everyone, and a symbolic tradition."

"Sword, Erica," Stiles sighed, but he finally followed her into the main hall where the inauguration was about to take place. "One of the people I know, none of whom I actually  _ trust _ around weapons, will be wielding a sword and coming way too close to people's heads and necks with it."

"It's Cora, by the way," Erica chuckled.

Stiles froze, and watched Erica take another two steps before she realized that Stiles wasn't following. She turned to him, and Stiles knew she could see his panic clearly written in his face.

"I'm  _ kidding _ ," Erica sighed with exasperation. "Jordan and Laura are doing the honors, with Braeden assisting."

"Friggin hell, Erica, you can't just do that," Stiles breathed out, but he felt his panic seeping out slowly, and he started walking again when she grabbed his hand and tugged him forward.

They got to the front of the hall, and Stiles couldn't help but admire the set up for the inauguration. He knew about the tradition, since it was slightly unusual in execution -- he was going to ignore the pun, appropriate as it was -- but it had been around the school from its early days. As a throwback to old European times, it featured a sword, and the process that was similar to knighting -- freshmen were welcomed into the student guild with having a sword lowered onto their left and right shoulder by one of the senior students. There was also an oath involved, which the whole freshman class recited together, and Stiles knew Erica's comment about it being for the show was accurate.

"Whoa," Stiles gasped when he looked to the side of the front stage, where Jordan, Laura, and Braeden were waiting.

"Yeah, Lydia went all out this year," Erica said quietly, leaning towards Stiles.

The three seniors were dressed up in costumes that echoed medieval times, and Stiles would be lying if he tried to claim that he wasn't impressed. Lydia most certainly made an effort this year, and what Stiles figured was usually just an attempt to keep the tradition going, was now a full-on recreation of the knighting process.

"Please tell me the sword isn't real," Stiles whispered, feeling the panic rise in his chest again.

"The sword isn't real," Erica deadpanned.

"Convincingly, please?"

"Can't do that," Erica shrugged. "It's actually Boyd's, and while it's blunted down, it's genuine metal. I kind of feel sorry for Jordan, his arms are going to hurt like a bitch by the time he's done."

"Shit," Stiles sighed. "Okay, let's do this thing," he said with determination, and started looking for Scott in the group of freshmen that was standing on the side of the stage.

Scott wasn't all that hard to find, since he was standing at the front of the group, with Isaac, Kira and Allison next to him and Stiles rushed over to join them. He figured that being in the front of the group would mean they were going up on the stage first, but he found that he didn't mind it all that much. Being first meant that he'd get the whole process over with, and that Jordan's hands would still be steady on the sword -- Stiles was still wondering how they got away with bringing a genuine sword to the ceremony.

True to his expectations, the process itself was simple -- the freshmen walked up on stage in groups of five, the seniors stood in front of one of them and brought the sword on the right and then the left shoulder of the freshman. There were words said along with it, but Stiles was too focused on watching the blade approach Allison's, Isaac's, Scott's, his own and finally Kira's shoulders to know what the words were.

Then they were ushered off the stage, and had to wait until the whole group of freshmen went through the same process. He recognized some faces from his lectures, others from the school's hallways. What surprised him was Ethan in one of the groups, and Stiles shot him a questioning glance when he joined the already 'knighted' group -- he couldn't think of it any differently, no matter how much he tried.

"Never done mine when Aiden and I transferred here," Ethan explained in a hushed tone. "Danny was nagging enough this year that I gave in."

"So Aiden did, but you didn't?" Stiles wondered, trying to keep his voice low as the ceremony continued.

"Last year, Lydia," Ethan shrugged, and that was explanation enough.

Stiles knew enough about Lydia's dating history -- not up close, nor was he in an way part of it, but he had been hanging out with the whole group before, and he did have eyes -- that the comment did make sense. He didn't get to think about it too long, because the last group of freshmen walked off the stage and Cora was leading them all to stand in front of it, so they could recite their oath to being a good student. Stiles tried hard to hold back his snicker, but he ended up earning himself a glare from Cora  _ and _ Jordan.

With the ceremony over, the freshmen scattered off to their tables, and Stiles headed for the coat room to relieve Aiden of the duty. It wasn't that Stiles wasn't keen on being part of the ball itself, he knew he'd try and get someone to step in for him when the bands came on stage, but for the time being, he was okay with being away from the main hall.

"So I guess we're not getting rid of you now," Cora said from behind his back, and Stiles spun to face her.

"Like you stood a chance anyway," he grinned at her.

"So, how is the coat room treating you so far?"

He knew from the smirk in her face that his earlier guess about who was responsible for Derek coming to get his ticket was right.

"Cora, don't meddle," Stiles said, his expression stern, but his tone a little pleading.

"I didn't…" Cora started to protest, but when Stiles shot her a judging 'I know what you did with the ticket and the coat earlier' she paused, then looked at him with curiosity.

"If it was high school, and it was Lydia, I'd have taken you up on that offer," Stiles said quietly. "But now, it doesn't feel right."

"Okay," Cora nodded, and Stiles' eyes opened wide.

"That's it?  _ 'Okay' _ ?" Stiles asked, not believing that it could be easy as that to convince Cora.

"There are reasons," Cora shrugged. "But yeah, it's that easy."

"But I asked you not to interfere before, and you still did," Stiles frowned.

"I wasn't sure how serious you were about that," Cora said.

"You mean the speech… okay, the rambling I reacted with then was not convincing enough? But me asking just once is suddenly all it takes?"

"Don't question it," Cora laughed. "Or I will think that the freshman doth protest too much, and that you actually  _ do _ want my help."

"Help, yeah," Stiles mumbled. "More like nagging and meddling, but I'll take it. Thank you."

"That said, I hope you actually do something about it, because if you two are still dancing around each other by the end of the semester, I won't hold back," Cora said with a victorious smile.

"That's only like, weeks away!" Stiles panicked. "Cora!"

"Have fun in the coat room, don’t do anything I wouldn't do," she said, and then she turned on her heel and walked back into the main hall.

"She certainly isn't leaving you with many options," Derek's voice said with a chuckle.

Stiles spun around, and stared at Derek with wide eyes.  _ How much did he hear? _

"I wonder if she plays Candy Crush," Stiles muttered just to steer the topic into a less dangerous zone than his thoughts were leading him.

"Not since the incident with the smashed phone and level seventy or something," Derek grinned.

"Weak, she's entirely too weak," Stiles grinned back, and he pulled out his phone as he started walking towards the coat room again.

"Mind if I stick around for a while?" Derek asked, surprising Stiles who couldn't do anything but nod at the offer at first.

Only when they walked into the room and watched Aiden rush out, Stiles managed to sort his mind again into words that made at least a little sense. He glanced to Derek who made himself comfortable in the same spot that Isaac was in earlier -- on top of the counter, leaning against the wall -- and then looked away, blushing.

"I hope you have no objections to swearing," Stiles said, his face turned to his phone. "Because this might get violent."

"As long as you're not throwing the phone in my direction, I think I'm good," Derek replied with a chuckle.

When Stiles glanced over again, he saw that Derek had his own phone pulled out, and he was looking at something on it with a soft smile.

_ Don't be a creeper, _ Stiles told himself, and he forced his eyes to focus on the screen. He had a level to beat, and Derek's presence wasn't going to be a distraction.

The rest of the ball night went by in a blur of dancing, singing, and drinking. Even the clean-up at the end of the night -- it turned out to be less than what Stiles was expecting, because Laura managed to find funds for a cleaning company to come do the majority of the work -- was ultimately fun. The sun was already coming up by the time they were walking back to the dorms, the heat that the alcohol had provided earlier long gone. Stiles wrapped his coat tighter, but the shivers didn't seem to abate in the slightest, so he tried to keep his mouth shut to stop his teeth from chattering too loudly.

"Oh, sweet heavenly  _ warmth _ ," he breathed out when they walked into the lobby of the dorms and showed off their passes to be let in.

He heard the murmur of agreement from the rest of the group around him and noticed Scott and Isaac waving off their girlfriends' attempts to return the coats that the guys chivalrously lent them. Danny and Ethan were huddled together at the back of their group, leaning on each other as tiredness began seeping into everyone's bones. Stiles grunted at the elevator that was yet again out of order, though it had worked just fine when they left for the ball, and he started making his way up the stairs.

"Stupid thing, I just want to get into my bed," he complained.

"You can do it, Stiles, we believe in you," Erica muttered and followed it with a yawn.

"Shut up, Reyes," Stiles said with no heat, too tired to start any kind of argument or verbal sparring match.

He didn't look back at Scott and Isaac when they reached their floor, knowing that the guys would want to say good night to the girls.

"Hello bed, my beloved," Stiles said with exaggeration when he fell on top of his covers fully dressed.

"You should at least try and change out of the suit," Derek laughed from the doorway, leaning against it, but looking like he wasn't tired at all.

"Shhh, sleeping," Stiles mumbled into his pillow. "Can't move. Should magic clothes off."

"That might end up unfortunate," Derek said. "What if you magic off more than you want?"

"Evil, bad person," Stiles groaned, but he turned on the bed and tried to move enough to start getting out of his admittedly uncomfortable for sleeping outfit.

"I'm gonna go pass out," Derek said when Stiles' fingers found the buttons of his shirt.

Stiles glanced up, and even in his tiredness he didn't miss the way Derek's ears turned pink.

"So, if I manage to get any sleep at all," Stiles said, then fought off a yawn. "Do you still want to study tonight?"

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled weakly, then started back on the buttons of his shirt, cursing the amount of them quietly. By the time Scott and Isaac came into the room, he was only seconds from falling asleep, and he was out like a light before they could talk to him at all.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are we going to grab some food before?" Stiles asked when Derek showed up, textbook and notes in hand, in their room later in the evening.

"Good morning to you too, Stiles," Derek said with a laugh. "Or well, good evening."

"Dude, it's getting dark already," Stiles pointed out of the window with a shocked look. "And I only just woke up."

"I know," Derek grinned, and leaned against one of the desks in the room. "I came over earlier, but Scott said he couldn't even wake you with the promise of curly fries."

"What?" Stiles said loudly. "I missed curly fries? That is not cool, not under any circumstances. I bet he lied about it and he didn't even  _ try _ waking me up."

"Stiles, they had the curly fries in the room," Derek laughed louder. "Braeden and Aiden went on a food run at lunch, but you didn't even stir."

"Great," Stiles' shoulders slumped. "Stupid body, what do you even need sleep for?"

"We could get some now," Derek offered, but Stiles shook his head.

"Nah man, no need to take away from studying time for me, even though…" Stiles looked out of the window with a gloomy expression, "… _ curly fries _ ."

"Come on," Derek said and put his books on the desk. "We're going to get food, then stop by the council office and swipe a bottle of wine from the crates that are left over from the ball, and  _ then _ we're going to tackle these," he pointed to the textbook.

"Have I told you lately that I love you," Stiles blurted.

Immediately after the words were out, and when his mind registered what he'd said, Stiles froze and he chanced a look at Derek a beat later.

"Not… I mean… not like  _ that _ , I mean not that I don't care or anything, but…" Stiles stumbled over his words and kept looking at Derek, panic rising in him with each word that Stiles knew didn't make the situation any better.

"Stiles, calm down," Derek laughed. "You're forgetting that I've  _ seen _ you around food. Accidental and misplaced declarations of affection are forgiven due to you not having had food since last night."

Stiles let out a sigh and reached for the jacket on his chair.

"Okay, let's do this," he said with determination, and he headed for the door.

Or at least he tried to, until he noticed that Derek was still standing in place, and throwing Stiles a look that was somewhere between judging and curious.

"What?" Stiles asked, and he frowned.

"You're in your pajamas," Derek replied.

"Take out? It's not like I'd be the first one to walk into the diner like this," Stiles shrugged. "Or are you ashamed to be seen with me in my super cool onesie, Der?"

"Let's not start on  _ that _ qualifier," Derek laughed. "And yeah, sure, I've done a food run in my PJs before," he admitted. "It just wasn't at this time of the day."

"It's almost dark already," Stiles defended his decision. "We might as well pretend it's a late night snack."

"I doubt snacks come in the size that your order is bound to be," Derek smirked, but he finally moved towards the door. "Okay, let's go, before you start chomping at the furniture," he added when Stiles' stomach let out a threatening rumble.

The half hour that followed was filled with Stiles' huffing and attempts at looking offended in response to Derek's teasing about meal choices, and with neither of them succeeding at staying even remotely serious. Eventually, they made it back to the dorms, hands full with take-out bags that earned them a few curious looks on the way up the stairs. Derek suggested that they eat first, but Stiles had a slightly different plan.

"I'm all for eating," he started.

"Obviously," Derek muttered, pointing to the fry already on the way to Stiles' mouth.

"But are we studying here?" Stiles ignored Derek's comment and pointed to the desks in his room. "Because Scott and Isaac will be back eventually, and we'll have no peace. Unless you're willing to offer up your room, but that wouldn't keep the noise out."

"How about the council meeting room?" Derek asked. "I have the key, we're allowed to use it for study sessions, it has desks and space, and it's away from everyone."

"Sounds good to me," Stiles nodded. "Okay, what do we need to bring over, besides the food and the textbooks?"

They gathered everything, including two sleeping bags -- one that Stiles had left since the first night when he didn't have bedding yet, the other one Derek's that came from his camping trips with Laura and Cora -- because Derek said they'd be convenient to lie on. Stiles didn't disagree, though he pointed out that he'd need extra coffee to stay awake in that case, which Derek responded to by grabbing the jar of instant coffee.

"We can get hot water in the meeting room," he explained, and Stiles grinned in delight.

"Right, let's do this," Stiles said with determination, and then he followed Derek out of the room.

They didn't do much studying at first; Stiles' stomach decided that food was most definitely a priority. Once the bags were empty and they settled on top of the sleeping bags on the floor, Derek jumped right into quizzing Stiles on the test questions. Stiles glared at him for a few seconds, but then started answering the ones he could. The glare returned when he drew a blank at a question, and he reached for the textbook only to have his hand slapped away.

"No, try to remember," Derek said firmly. "You're not going to have the book at hand when you're in the exam."

"I don't  _ know _ the answer," Stiles protested. "How can I learn it if you won't let me look it up."

"Give yourself time, Stiles," Derek's voice softened a little. "I know there will be a clock ticking when you're in the exam room, but it's not a countdown to a death sentence."

"It is if I don't pass the exam," Stiles grumbled.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Derek sat up, and he pulled the textbook into his lap. "I'll give you questions and the possible answers from the practice exam at the back, you'll answer the ones you can, and say 'skip' for ones you want me to get back to later."

"What if I can't answer a question a second time?" Stiles asked, but he was already sitting up too, preparing himself for the questions.

"Three tries, then we look it up, or I'll tell you if I know it," Derek said, and opened the book on the page with the practice tests.

"Okay, fire away," Stiles said.

He closed his eyes before Derek started asking, because he wanted to avoid all possible distractions.  _ Like Derek's face _ , Stiles' mind supplied and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Derek didn't comment on that, and Stiles guessed that it was because Derek probably chalked up the blush to the glass of wine that was in Stiles' hand.

An hour and a bottle of wine later, Stiles was questioning the idea of bringing alcohol into their study session, though. His mind was still relatively clear, but he could feel the buzz under his skin.

"What if I can't answer these when I'm sober," he wondered out loud when they took a short break from the questions.

"You're not  _ drunk _ , Stiles," Derek laughed. "And you know most of these, so chances are they'll stick after the buzz is gone."

"I know I'm not like,  _ drunk _ drunk, but maybe I'll need to have this buzz," Stiles said, and he looked at Derek. "Do you think I could bring a flask to the exam?"

"I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been done," Derek smirked. "Jordan has a particularly interesting story about falling asleep in an exam."

"The one about the time he was so wasted that he was pretty much only there for participation?" Stiles asked, remembering a confession-filled partying night from a few weeks earlier.

"Yeah, that time when Boyd and Ethan  _ carried _ him into the exam room, sat him down in the front row and he promptly fell asleep on the chairs," Derek continued laughing. "In his defense, though, it was the night after he was drinking away his sorrows about Lydia turning him down."

"Oh, that would bring a man down," Stiles sighed. "I wasn't allowed to drink yet when that happened to me. Repeatedly."

"You're technically not allowed now," Derek pointed out.

"Yeah well, it was just a  _ little _ bit harder when living under the same roof as the Sheriff," Stiles said. "At least most of the time."

Derek lifted an eyebrow at Stiles with curiosity, but Stiles shook his head.

"Nope, trade secrets," he said to Derek. "Can't be giving them away."

"Can't be giving  _ Scott _ away, you mean?"

"It wasn't whiskey from his house, his Mom got rid of all of that when his Dad did a runner," Stiles said, and then he slapped his hand over his mouth. "Shit, no, I didn't mean to say that."

"Loose-lipped, are we?" Derek teased.

"Is that why you suggested that we drink tonight?" Stiles frowned. "So that you can get secrets out of me?"

Derek shook his head, but his expression gave away a hint of embarrassment that left Stiles curious.

"Right, your turn now anyway," Stiles shook off his curiosity, and he reached for the textbook in Derek's lap.

"Hit me," Derek said with a challenging smile.

"Don't tempt me," Stiles grinned.

He nudged Derek's knee as he was pulling the book away, and continued grinning while he read out the first question that his eyes fell on. Of course, Derek only missed a few questions, and got almost all of them right on the second try. Stiles' shoulders slumped when he compared it to how he struggled with the material, especially the first aid section where he couldn't afford making mistakes.

"Hey, quit the pouting," Derek shifted closer when Stiles stopped reading out questions. "You'll get this, let's…"

"I need a break," Stiles said hastily, tossing the textbook aside.

He tried to stand up, but his knees felt wobbly from sitting on the ground for so long. There was still a little bit of the alcohol buzz that definitely didn't help with his balance. Stiles let out a weak yelp when he felt his body losing its steadiness, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of hitting the floor. What he felt instead was softness and warmth, and when he opened his eyes again, he realized that he landed right in Derek's lap.

"Oh, shit, hi," Stiles blurted. "Sorry, I'm … I'll just…"

His arms flailed as he tried to steady himself on the floor so he could push off of Derek. Stiles froze when his palm landed on something warm again, instead of the rough and cool carpet that he was aiming for.

"That… I…" Stiles tried to say, but his mind was spinning too fast to form coherent sentences.

Derek froze for a moment, but moments later Stiles could feel the vibrations of laughter from Derek's body.

"Are you laughing at me?" Stiles asked, trying not to pout. "You're laughing at me," he repeated with a defeated and slightly offended tone.

"Bambi," Derek blurted out, and Stiles could hear the laughter now.

"Fuck you," Stiles spat, but his voice lacked the heat that he'd intended to give it.

A few beats later, Stiles' words registered in his mind, and his cheeks immediately flushed an ever deeper red than they already were from the combination of being in Derek's lap and the wine buzz. He froze and tried to think whether the momentary pause would make Derek take the meaning of the words literally, or if it'd come across as just a phrase. A beat later Stiles felt Derek's fingers twitch against his waist where he felt them as Derek tried to steady him before Stiles' unfortunate hand flailing.

"I should…" Stiles started, and cleared his throat when his voice sounded rougher than he expected. "I'll just…" he tried again, but the words were stuck in his throat.

He still felt the warmth of Derek's hands through the T-shirt he was wearing, and even when Stiles shifted a little in an attempt to get up they didn't move.

"Bathroom," Stiles finally blurted, having given up on full sentences.

There was some shuffling, a groan when he moved upwards and off of Derek, and before Stiles even took a breath he was already walking out of the door and towards the block where his dorm room was. In a moment of clarity and his manners kicking in, he glanced back into the room, but avoided meeting Derek's eyes.

"I'll be back in ten, okay?" Stiles said then, and rushed off before Derek could reply.

When he was walking back to the meeting room, a little steadier after a glass of water and less twitchy now that his bladder wasn't bothering him, Stiles wondered if Derek would still be there. Embarrassment washed over him when his mind turned back to the awkward moment earlier, but he tried to push it away. He could brush it off as just a teenager thing, he was  _ supposed to _ be awkward and weird, Derek should know that.

"Hey," Derek said the moment Stiles cracked the door open. "So, I thought we could try one of the written tests now, instead of just questions?"

Stiles was thrown for a moment by how quickly Derek seemed to have returned back to normal, acting like nothing happened.  _ Maybe that's what it was _ , Stiles thought.  _ Nothing at all, not even a blip on Derek's radar _ , his mind offered up, and Stiles' shoulders slumped.

"Not if you don't want to, we can keep at what we did before," Derek added when Stiles didn't respond to his suggestion.

"No, a test is fine," Stiles finally said. "It'll be how the exam is done, isn't it?"

The relief in Derek's face was clear in his posture and his face, and Stiles walked closer. He folded and crossed his legs as he sat back down on the sleeping bag on the floor, and glanced at the sheets of paper Derek was holding.

"Where did you get those, anyway?" Stiles asked then, because even a few seconds of silence weighed heavily on him

Focusing on the test, on the exam that they both would be taking in what was only a few hours away, was easier. Stiles didn't have to think too hard about which words to use, what could be read into them. At least not too much, though ' _ who did you have to blow to get that _ ' flashed through his mind. He squashed that one quickly, along with ignoring just what imagery it brought up.

"You think I'm going to reveal my secrets?" Derek replied, and he winked at Stiles.

_ Oh, this is familiar _ , Stiles thought at the teasing. Erica would call it flirting, he knew, but the jokes between them had become a staple in their conversation.

"And here I thought that bribing you with food would help at least a little," Stiles smirked back at Derek, feeling the tension ease as they fell back into banter.

"That would require you not eating everything in sight." Derek laughed. "And leaving at least something for me, so I could consider it payment for valuable information."

Stiles pouted, but he had no defense against that. Instead, he frowned and looked at Derek with a little bit of wariness.

"We're not going to get in trouble for having these, are we?"

"No, they're just exams from previous years," Derek said. "The prof has them on the department website all year round."

"Oh good," Stiles let out a relieved breath, and he grabbed the sheet Derek handed him.

"Okay, exam is thirty minutes, my stopwatch is…" Derek glanced at his phone where he had a timer app ready. "…set, are you good to go?"

Stiles nodded, his lips already wrapped around the end of the pencil that he dug out while Derek was setting up the timer.

"Aaaand go," Derek said with a bit more theatrics than strictly necessary.

Stiles looked down at the practice test, and barely looked up as they went through that one followed by two more that Derek had printed. Exams weren't usually Stiles' strong point, especially not ones that lasted long, but with this one only being a half hour one, he managed to not feel like he was going to jump out of his skin, at least not until they were on the third one.

"I think I'm actually ready for this thing," Stiles said, punctuating the words with a yawn.

Derek mirrored the yawn and then he frowned at Stiles and muttered about how yawning was contagious and no good if they were to go take the exam.

"Yeah, you'll do good,  _ after _ coffee," Derek grinned.

"All the coffee, yes please," Stiles said, and he got off the floor to stretch his legs. "Oh shit, the sun is almost up."

"Back to the room, then?" Derek suggested.

"Shower, coffee, kick the exam's ass," Stiles nodded, and started gathering the papers and everything else they had in the room. "You know, I didn't say thank you," he added, and looked at Derek.

"Thank me when you have the results," Derek smiled. "Okay, let's go before I fall asleep standing up. Dibs on the bathroom!"

"Hey, no fair, I wasn't aware we were calling dibs!" Stiles protested.

"Well, duh," Derek nudged Stiles as they walked towards their section of the dorms.

_ We're definitely back to normal _ , Stiles thought with relief. He didn't dwell on it for too long, though, because his tiredness and need for coffee required all the focus he could muster. All other reassuring or worrying internal debates about the state of his and Derek's relationship would need to wait.

∞

He didn’t have a chance to think about any of what happened with Derek for some time after, as they hit the exam period. Stiles spent most of the upcoming few weeks with textbooks and notes, and everything else took a backseat. In retrospect, had he been less occupied with trying to pass his first batch of exams, he’d have noticed that the study session with Derek did change things between them. Unlike in the beginning of the semester, and really until that night of studying, Derek stopped shying away from Stiles. 

Had Stiles managed to pay attention, he’d have noticed that Derek initiated contact, whether it was talking and giving Stiles -- and sometimes Scott or Isaac -- tips on studying for the exams, or even physical contact. There were a few moments -- mostly forgotten in the chaos of the exams -- when Stiles was aware that Derek sat a little closer than before when they were in the same room, and that they’d even fallen asleep leaning against each other once. But the stress from school pushed those thoughts away, since Stiles didn’t stop until he handed in the last exam sheet and got back to the dorms.

"I am  _ done _ ," Stiles called when he walked into the hallway.

He was back at the dorm after his last exam of the semester, and he was trying to hold back his victory dance. The results from all his exams weren't all in yet, but he knew that -- after the study session with Derek -- he had the credits for the compulsory Health and Safety qualification exam. The rest of his exams had possible retake dates if he failed them, but those weren't until after the winter break, so Stiles wasn't too worried.

"Show off," Scott grumbled from the desk, when Stiles threw himself on his bed.

"Ssshhhh," Isaac's voice came from under the other desk in the corner. "Some of us had shittier exam dates."

"Sorry guys, I'll just…" Stiles looked around the room and he frowned.

There wasn't much to do, not when he needed to stay quiet. All gaming was out of the question and Stiles tried to think what else he could kill time with for a while.

"Jeesh, Stiles, calm down," Isaac huffed when Stiles stood up and sat down for the third time. "Here, read a book."

Stiles flailed as he tried to catch the book that Isaac tossed his way, and he mumbled a 'thanks' before he settled against his headboard and pulled a blanket over his lap. He froze when he finally looked at the cover of the book, and almost asked Isaac about it. But when he saw the way Isaac was nervously chewing at the end of his pencil and flipped through pages of the textbook, Stiles decided to not question the origin of the book.

'Little Red', the title said innocently, though the picture on the cover told a different story. Stiles figured from the mostly undressed woman on the front that he wouldn't have any luck finding anything that wasn't heterosexual, but he was bored and figured he'd give it a try. So maybe his fantasies in the last while revolved around tall, dark, and handsome, with a five-o'clock shadow and green eyes and very  _ very _ much male; but it didn't mean that Stiles stopped appreciating the ladies.

It only took a few pages before Stiles was lost in the admittedly cheesy, over the top, and not exactly literary awards worthy text. Not that he would acknowledge it out loud, but despite promises of 'you'll get laid in college', he'd not seen much action on that front during the first semester. Granted, his ongoing crush on Lydia, and the … thing … that he had with Derek, it wasn't like Stiles was  _ looking _ . But the drought on the sex front was an excuse Stiles knew he'd use if Isaac or Scott questioned just how into the story he was.

He was distracted by the words on the page enough that he missed that someone walked into the room and headed right for the bed Stiles was on.

"What are you reading?" Derek's voice startled Stiles right out of a paragraph that he was hoping would lead into something less cheesy and more steamy.

"I… nothing," Stiles squeaked -- not that he'd willingly admit that the noise he made was actually real. "Isaac's book," he added, and he bit his bottom lip, hoping Derek wouldn't ask any further.

_ Of course, that would've been way too easy _ , Stiles thought when Derek stepped closer.

"Can I read with?" Derek asked, and Stiles nodded before he could think better of it.

"Shut up, you two," Isaac grumbled from under the desk, still buried in his notes.

"C'mon," Stiles got up and nodded towards Isaac's bed that was in the far corner. "More walls to lean against over there," he explained in a hushed tone.

Derek nodded, and he followed Stiles to the bed, then both of them sat with their backs to the wall and legs hanging off of the side.

"This won't work," Stiles grumbled quietly. "Here, you against the headboard, I'll sit in front and you can read over my shoulder."

Stiles ignored Derek's raised eyebrow, and glared until Derek sat down where he was told to. When Stiles slipped into the spot he wanted to be -- not strictly only in that moment, he admitted to himself -- Derek's hands gripped Stiles' sides with just enough pressure to be felt, but not enough to cause pain. Stiles bent his knees, propped the book up against them, and he leaned back against Derek's chest. He didn't miss the hitch in Derek's breathing when the words on the page finally registered, and Stiles blushed in response.

"Blame Isaac," he mumbled, hoping Derek would hear him. "Nothing else to do with those two studying."

He smirked when Isaac's "shhh!" was perfectly synchronized with Scott's then, and tried to hold back the chuckle when they both glowered at Stiles and Derek from their desks. What he couldn't help was the way his shoulders shook because of the laughter he was holding back. Derek's hands moved to Stiles' shoulder and squeezed gently at first, then harder when Stiles squirmed under the touch.

"Just read," Derek said quietly into Stiles' ear.

That, even before Stiles' mind started going places prompted by the book in front of him, sent shivers down his spine. He valiantly tried to ignore it, but failed and trembled when Derek's fingers moved back down to his hips and Stiles felt their warmth in the tiny gap left between his jeans and his T-shirt.

He pushed his building arousal away and forced his eyes on the words on the page instead. Derek's warmth was both distracting and making Stiles' mind dive deeper into the imagery of the book. They were -- according to the cover -- 'reimagined' fairy tales, with a lot less clothing and a lot more sex. The one that Stiles opened to was echoing the title, and Stiles couldn't fight the amusement at the big bad wolf and red riding hood, more so when he glanced down and saw that he was indeed wearing his usual red hoodie. He knew exactly when Derek got to the description of the red hood, because there was a very distinct chuckle next to Stiles' ear. At the same time, Derek's fingers twitched against Stiles' sides.

"Wait," Derek said quietly when Stiles started flipping the page.

Seconds ticked away and Stiles read through the last passage on the page again, hoping that Derek wasn't far behind. When Derek whispered "now" into his ear, Stiles tried to ignore how his fingers trembled enough to make the paper shake. But then he fell right back into the quickly escalating 'plot'. Reading about dilating pupils, hitches in breathing, and then rough claiming kisses was an entirely different experience to Stiles' usual ventures into reading erotica. With Derek's chest pressed against Stiles' back, fingers twitching and shifting around the edge of Stiles' T-shirt, he could feel himself reacting in a way he knew would be hard to ignore very soon.

"Next one?" Stiles asked with a low and a little shaky voice, when he reached the bottom of another page.

Derek nodded against his shoulders, and he shifted a little. The way Derek moved made it obvious that he was trying to pull his hips backwards and away from Stiles. It made Stiles wonder if the reaction that Derek had -- and a second later when Stiles moved a little too there was no doubt about Derek's cock getting hard -- was only about their reading material or about Stiles' closeness.

They managed to get through a few more pages, and the mentions of slightly distracting heaving bosoms and a ripped dressed that didn't do anything at all for Stiles right then turned into detailed descriptions of sex itself. Stiles couldn't help but squirm when his cock grew harder, and he couldn't stop his breathing from speeding up any longer. Derek's fingers twitched and Stiles moved again, freezing immediately after. Derek's hard cock was brushing against Stiles' ass through the layers of the jeans they were both wearing, and Stiles regretted not bringing along the blanket from his own bed.

What he wanted right then wasn't to keep reading, but instead to  _ do _ things. Stiles wanted Derek's fingers to move forward, wanted Derek to slide them to the zipper and under his jeans. Reality kicked in a second later when Derek gasped into Stiles' ear and shifted. The sound was like a cold shower and Stiles tensed, apologies immediately forming on the tip of his tongue. Instead of pushing Stiles off in disgust or disapproval, Derek lifted a hand and reached for the book in Stiles' hand, and pushed it closed.

"My room," he whispered into Stiles' ear.

Stiles didn't need any further invitations, and he almost fell off the bed in his haste to get up. He could hear Derek's quiet chuckle followed by another "Shhh!" from the other side of the room that reminded them both that they weren't alone.

"Come on," Derek said and grabbed Stiles' hand, tugging him towards the hallway after he took the book and tossed it onto Isaac's bed.

Stiles followed wordlessly, his mind spinning on all cylinders. Was this going to be a quick make out because of what they'd just read? Was Cora right and did Derek have a thing for Stiles? Should Stiles admit that his interest in Derek was more than just a passing distraction?

His thoughts were cut off the moment Derek pulled him into the room, and he pressed Stiles against the door as he closed it. Stiles was, for the first time in a long time, lost for words, his mind completely blank as he stared at Derek, trying to process what was happening. Derek's hands fit surprisingly well against the curve of Stiles' sides, and their warmth was like a small fire that sparked through his whole body.

"Der," Stiles breathed out.

Then, feeling like his throat had been stripped of all moisture Stiles gulped and licked his lips. That was apparently enough for any leftovers of Derek's hesitation to break. Before Stiles could say anything else -- not that he was able to string words together -- Derek's lips were on his mouth. The kiss started gently, almost like only a breath against Stiles' upper lip, like Derek was asking permission. Stiles' hands shot to Derek's shoulders and he closed the almost imperceptible distance between his and Derek's mouth.

There was no 'battling for dominance', nor 'moans swallowed' like in the story they'd been reading earlier. They kissed like neither of them had any experience with it before -- noses bumping into each other, muffled chuckles and a quiet hiss when they both opened their mouths too much and their teeth clacked against each other. Stiles' fingers clenched tight around Derek's shoulders and he was pretty sure that if Derek's hands grabbed Stiles' waist any tighter, there would be bruises the next day.

"Bed, c'mon," Derek said eventually, pulling away for just a moment.

He stepped backwards until he reached the bed, pulling Stiles along with him. Then Derek's knees hit the edge of the bed and they were falling onto the sheets -- Derek backwards and Stiles right on top of him. Stiles' instinct kicked in and he landed with his palms on the bed, somehow managing to not knee Derek in the crotch.

"Fuck," Stiles gasped when Derek lifted the leg that Stiles' knees were framing, and his thigh brushed against Stiles' undeniably hard cock. "Der, I…"

"Mhm," Derek hummed, and he wrapped a palm around the back of Stiles' neck.

Then he pulled Stiles down and their mouths connected again in a kiss that was only a little bit less clumsy than the first one. Stiles was trying to hold himself up above Derek, but he was losing the fight against his trembling arms. When Derek tugged Stiles a little lower again with the hand on his neck, Stiles' arms shook one more time and then gave in.

"Hmph," Stiles let out as he landed on Derek. "Shit, sorry," he quickly added and tried to roll off to get his weight off of Derek's chest.

"Shut up," Derek muttered and held Stiles in place.

"Make me," Stiles smirked then, unable to resist the response.

Derek smiled and surged up to kiss Stiles again, the kiss finally a little less clumsy, but all the more hungry, like Derek had wanted to do that for a while.  _ Maybe he had _ , Stiles thought.

"Stop thinking," Derek mumbled when Stiles frowned. "Just, don't  _ think _ ."

"'Kay," Stiles said, and he nodded.

He didn't  _ want _ to think, didn't want to overanalyze the situation, had absolutely zero plans to ruin the moment, but his brain was working against him again. The frown disappeared from his forehead for only a short while, and then it came back again even as Derek kept kissing him. No matter how much Stiles tried to relax, the nagging voice at the back of his mind wouldn't stop questioning why Derek was kissing him, why he hadn't done it before, and how much of it was Stiles being conveniently  _ there _ .

Derek eventually stopped the kisses, and he rolled them both to the side. Then he ran a thumb over the crease on Stiles' forehead, and matched Stiles' frown. Neither of them said anything, but Stiles could feel the tension in the air.

"I can almost hear you thinking," Derek whispered. "Tell me?"

"It's…" Stiles started, but before he managed to organize his thoughts, the door flew open.

"Yo, Der Bear, please tell me you still have the Econ lecture notes from last year," Cora fired off quickly as she burst into the room.

A second later she froze when she realized what she walked in on.

"Shiii--t, sorry, never mind me, I'll… Derek let me know when… you know," her hands flailed as she was backing out of the room. "Bye!"

She slammed the door behind her, and the room suddenly felt too small and too quiet for Stiles. He didn't know whether to laugh at Cora's face or blush because they'd been caught, or keep wondering  _ why _ they were even there.

Then Derek -- who buried his face in the pillow the moment Cora walked in -- began shaking on the bed. Stiles scrunched his eyebrows at the sight, not knowing if Derek was crying or laughing. When Derek finally turned his face to the side and looked at Stiles, it became clear that it was the latter, and Derek's chuckle made Stiles' lips turn up in a smile.

"Mood killed thoroughly, I'd say," Derek said then, between bursts of laughter.

"Cold shower level, yes," Stiles agreed. " _ Don't _ tell Cora I mentioned the word cold in reference to her."

"She'd probably be proud," Derek said and sighed, then rolled onto his back. "So…"

"So…" Stiles echoed, but didn't know what else to say.

Derek clearly didn't know either, because all that was heard in the room was silence and the ticking of Derek's alarm clock. Stiles glared at the old-fashioned metal thing like its noise was personally offending him, but he also appreciated the focus it was giving him.

"We should do that again," Derek blurted after a while.

He still wasn't looking at Stiles, though, and that made Stiles' head spin again with a barrage of thoughts.

"The reading?" Stiles asked before he could think of a better question.

"No… yes… I mean," Derek stumbled over his words, and he rolled over to look at Stiles again. "That too, but…"

Stiles found the blush that took over Derek's face adorable, and he couldn't hold back his own smile. Of course he wasn't stealthy enough and Derek noticed, but the upside was the tiny soft upturn of Derek's lips. Combined with the flush in Derek's cheeks, it made Stiles want to lean in and kiss him.

"Cora's going to be an asshole about this, isn't she?" Stiles asked a little while later.

Derek's smile immediately disappeared, and his forehead scrunched into a frown.

"I can talk to her," he said to Stiles, but his tone made it clear that Derek didn't think it would help.

"She's not… I don't think I want to know what she'd tell everyone," Stiles whispered. "She's been…"

He stopped himself then, unsure if he wanted to tell Derek about Cora's meddling, or about how she already pretty much gave Stiles the 'concerned sibling' speech. Whatever it was that led Derek and him to where they were right then still had the possibility of disappointing Stiles.

"She tried to meddle, didn't she?" Derek asked, sounding like he already knew the answer. "I can ask her to not tell anyone, tell her that…"

Derek paused, frowning like he was searching for the right words. Stiles moved a hand towards Derek's, and he brushed his fingers across Derek's wrist.

"Der?" Stiles said when Derek didn't continue voicing the storm of thoughts that was clearly raging in Derek's mind. "What… what is this?"

Stiles waved his hand between them then, and he felt his heart race. The answer to his question could be anything from a dream come true -- literally, though Stiles wasn't going to admit to the number of his dreams that Derek had starred in -- to heart-crushing.

"Whatever you want it to be," Derek whispered back after a pause that seemed longer to Stiles than it actually was. "I know I'm not Lydia…"

"Don’t even… Derek, that's not…" Stiles stumbled over his words. "She's… that’s not…  _ shit _ ," Stiles huffed when his brain refused to cooperate and form coherent sentences or at least something close.

"What do  _ you _ want this to be?" Derek asked then, his face showing that he was caught a little off guard, and that Stiles' rambling wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"I don't know," Stiles answered honestly. "I don't know what I  _ can _ want."

"Everything," Derek said. "Anything."

"That's a very  _ very _ dangerous offer," Stiles blushed. "My imagination shouldn't be given absolute freedom."

"I beg to differ," Derek smirked then.

The exchange helped both of them relax, and Stiles' smile reappeared. It was like a door opened all of a sudden, and Stiles' mind immediately jumped to all his previous daydreams. He almost ended up blurting some of them out, just to test Derek's offer, but he hesitated.

"We'll both need to talk to Cora," Stiles said instead. "Maybe then she'll … I don’t …"

Stiles' thoughts scattered as he tried to find the words that would explain to Derek that he didn't want Cora's interfering to ruin what they could have before it happened, and that he didn't want to pressure Derek  _ or himself _ . It wasn't like Stiles had experience with relationships --  _ not that this is one _ , he thought -- except for a short-lived something with a schoolmate back in high school. But whatever he'd had with Heather had only lasted less than a semester, and it wasn't serious at all. Derek though; Stiles wanted  _ serious _ with Derek.

Before he completely lost himself in his increasingly panicky thoughts, Stiles felt a nudge at his fingers, and when he looked down he found Derek's hand next to his own. He returned the nudge and then their fingers brushed against each other again, until they were linked loosely. Just having the contact point helped anchor Stiles' mind a little and he took a deep breath to slow his brain down.

"I'll call her, okay?" Derek offered, and Stiles nodded.

Once Derek pulled out his phone and made a quick call to his sister, they sat up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Not the way they'd been leaning into each other earlier, when they were reading, but instead their shoulders were brushing as they sat side by side.

A soft knock interrupted Derek's thumb tracing circles against Stiles' wrist, and Stiles couldn't hold back the chuckle.

" _ Now _ she knocks," he muttered, and he felt Derek's shoulders shake with the laughter that Derek was trying to hold back.

"Is it safe to come in?" Cora asked when she pushed the door open a tiny bit, not enough for her to either walk in or even look inside the room.

" _ Yes _ ," Derek grumbled. "Stop being a brat and get in here. We need to talk."

"Shit, Der, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…" Cora rambled as she walked into the room, obviously apologetic, though Stiles doubted it was for the reason that she should be. "Oh, never mind, I didn't interrupt too much, then," she finished with a smirk and a glint in her eye.

"That's completely beside the point," Derek sighed.

"It isn't," she said and sat down across from them, straddling Derek's office chair. "You're both still here, so I don't need to go bribe Stiles into coming back."

"Keep it up and you might need to," Stiles narrowed his eyes at her.

"But you two are…" she pointed to their hands that were very much linked and to the way they looked comfortable leaning against each other, "something," she finished with a questioning glance to both of them.

"Whatever we are or aren't," Derek said with a frown, "is none of your business, Cora. I don't know what you were planning, or how you were thinking of meddling, but  _ don't _ ."

Stiles turned to look at Derek, because he could feel the building anger in Derek's voice. The expression that he was met with made him squeeze his fingers around Derek's in what Stiles hoped was reassuring and calming. Then he glanced back to Cora, and he didn't miss the way understanding flashed across her face. There was definitely something that he was missing, but he hoped that it wouldn't ruin anything and that Derek would eventually talk to Stiles about it.

"Okay," Cora said quietly. "I'm sorry, Der. I just…"

"I know," Derek's voice softened. "But don't, okay?"

"I won't tell anyone," Cora promised. "Not until you two … well, I will  _ try _ to not tell anyone," she added when Stiles rolled his eyes at her.

"Please, Cora," Derek said quietly then, and his plea moved the lighter tone of the conversation back into a serious zone.

"Yeah," Cora nodded at Derek. "Yeah, okay."

She gave him a soft smile that Stiles could only compare to a caress, and she stood up. When she left the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click, Stiles turned to Derek with a questioning glance.

"Can I ask what that was about?" Stiles asked, deliberately making it so that Derek had a choice to not answer if he didn't want to.

"Not right now," Derek said after a pause and a few steadying breaths. "Some other time, okay?"

Stiles nodded, and squeezed Derek's hand, and then he turned his head again and leaned it against Derek's shoulder.

"So, anyway," he said. "Now that the sisterly menace reminded me why I'm glad to be an only child," he quipped and heard Derek chuckle, "what now?"

"Do some more soft porn reading?" Derek asked, and Stiles almost turned around when he could feel Derek's shoulders shake with laughter again. "I mean, the Red Riding Hood thing was  _ interesting _ , don't you think?"

"Hey!" Stiles did turn around then as he voiced his protest. "It's Isaac's book, I was bored. No one forced you to read along," he pouted as he faced Derek.

"Are you sorry I did?" Derek challenged.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, looking for a catch in the question, and wondering how to answer. He wasn't sorry that the book, however awkward it might have made some things, pushed them towards each other, got them to at least talk. Or kiss. Stiles most definitely wasn't sorry about the kissing. Or the making out at least up until the moment when his brain went haywire and until Cora barged in.

"Stiles, I…" Derek started saying, and the apologetic tone brought Stiles out of his musings.

"No," he interrupted quickly, startling Derek into silence. "No, I'm not sorry."

The bright smile that took over Derek's features was something that Stiles immediately promised himself to try and cause more often. That, along with the visible relief, was enough to make Stiles smile too. He lifted his free hand to Derek's cheek, and he caressed the stubble there with his thumb. Then, with some hesitation, he met Derek's eyes, and he took a deep breath.

"Can I…" he started, and then he paused for a beat before trying to speak again."Can I kiss you?"

Derek nodded and breathed out a "yeah" that was barely audible, while already leaning forward a little. Stiles echoed the movement, and closed the small distance between them. The kiss this time was gentle, but not hesitant. It was soft and like testing waters, like small steps in a quiet forest, watching out for branches under their feet so they don't startle something or someone. But despite the carefulness, it was no less good or satisfying.

"So," Stiles said when they both pulled away reluctantly, repeating his words from earlier, "what now?"

Derek scrunched his eyebrows like he was trying to collect his thoughts, but then it became clear that he was fighting tiredness. A yawn escaped him, and Stiles chuckled.

"A nap?" Stiles suggested, still smiling.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Derek apologized. "It's not  _ this _ ," he motioned between them with his free hand, "it's just that I was up last night working on the thesis, and…"

"Der, it's okay," Stiles said. "Naps are good, I'm all for naps. All the naps all the time, okay?"

"Not  _ all _ the time, I hope," Derek smirked then, and Stiles blushed as the comment made his mind spin again with no-nap possibilities of things that could happen in a bed.

In  _ Derek's _ bed. The reality of where they were suddenly hit him, and his blush deepened when he thought of how many times he imagined himself being there.

"You know, I was never in your room before," Stiles said.

"I'll give you a tour later, okay?" Derek replied, and he shifted until he was lying on top of the covers. "Sleep now," he added and tugged on Stiles' hand to pull him down.

Stiles muttered an "okay" in response and let Derek move him until they were lying down, facing each other, their fingers intertwined between them. Derek reached for a blanket that was hanging on the backrest of his desk chair, and Stiles helped him spread it over them. Even though he didn't think he was tired, the moment he settled down, his eyelids started feeling heavy. Sleep washed over them both soon after, the ticking of an alarm clock from the nightstand the only sound besides their breathing.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to what Stiles -- to himself, not out loud since he valued his life -- called a small miracle, Cora stood by her word, and it seemed that no one else in their group noticed a change in Derek's and his relationship in the days that followed. Not that either of them called it a  _ relationship _ , nor had they progressed from occasional kisses. Stiles didn't push: on one hand his instinct was telling him that it would be a bad idea and on the other not really feeling the urge to rush things also played a part in that.

He did enjoy the times when they found themselves alone, mostly in Derek's room that was now a sanctuary for both of them instead of only Derek. But the Christmas holidays were only two days away, and Stiles knew that they, along with everyone else, would be leaving the dorms. Stiles was going home to his Dad, Derek to New York with Laura and Cora. Stiles wondered if Derek was planning to come back for New Year's, though, but wasn't sure how to ask. In the end, it was Cora who answered the question for him, in an outburst of anger when she confronted Derek about a decision that had been made before the semester started.

"I know that's what we said, Der," she glared at Derek, her hands on her hips, after Stiles heard her shouting for a while before he dared walking into the room.

It wasn’t that he thought he had any right to be a part of the conversation, but he'd left his hoodie in the room and wanted to wash it before packing it. So he knocked, and then walked in when he heard Derek's muffled invitation, and aimed straight for the hoodie on the desk chair.

"Stiles, what do you think?" Cora addressed him when he was squeezing past her.

"Oh no," Stiles froze, and he glanced between her and Derek. "I'm not getting involved, I'm just here to get my hoodie and then get out of the line of fire."

"Wimp," Cora smirked. "You're already involved, what with you two…" she waved a hand between Stiles and Derek and her eyebrows did an odd dance.

" _ Cora _ ," Derek hissed from the bed, where he was sitting cross-legged with a book in his lap.

"I'm not actually  _ saying _ anything," Cora said defensively.

"Still not getting involved," Stiles said, snatched his hoodie and headed for the door again. "In the discussion," he added with a smile to Derek.

He could hear Cora's laughter before he closed the door, and didn't miss the "He does know you pretty well, doesn't he?" comment that she directed at Derek. That had Stiles thinking again, about Derek, about what they were to each other, about whatever insecurities were playing a role in whatever was going on between them. He wondered if he should have gotten involved in the New Year's discussion, or if Derek wanted Stiles to say something.

"Yo, bro," Scott interrupted his thoughts before Stiles could turn around and go back to Derek's room. "Mom just called, looks like we're doing the family dinner thing this year."

"Wait, what?" Stiles frowned, but he couldn't hold back the grin that his next thought prompted. "Please tell me that one of them grew a set of balls and they asked each other out," he said with a hopeful tone.

"Mom wouldn't say anything," Scott grumbled. "But if they want to do a joint dinner, my money is on it being likely. It would be about time, too."

"Tell me about it," Stiles rolled his eyes. "I swear they're deliberately obtuse, it's not like they don't know they'd be good together."

"Speaking of being good together…" Scott raised an eyebrow at Stiles. "What about you and Derek?"

The question caught Stiles off-guard enough that he didn't immediately find the usual words he used to distract and brush off Scott. But because he'd been lost in thoughts before, and because unlike any of the times before when Scott got curious there  _ was _ something now, he froze and struggled to say something.

"What about it?" Stiles blurted instead, and he almost slapped himself for the defensive tone that he couldn't hide.

"Well, you're talking about how Mom and the Sheriff would be good for each other," Scott started tentatively.

He walked closer to Stiles' bed and sat down on it, looking at Stiles with an expression that was a mix of amusement, curiosity, and concern. It was one that Stiles was familiar with; the only thing missing was the semi-permanent confused look that always made him think of puppies. A second later, when he didn't say anything, the look did show up, though, and Stiles smirked.

"Well, they would be, didn't we agree on that like, years ago?" Stiles asked Scott, hoping that it would be enough to keep their conversation on the topic of their parents.

"You're trying to distract me," Scott said simply, and Stiles' face fell.

_ Damn McCall, now is not the time to develop observation skills _ , he thought when he saw Scott's questioning glance.

"No, I'm just continuing the topic that might lead me to win the twenty bucks you are so totally going to owe me," Stiles grinned.

"I'm still saying they won't admit it or be official until we're done with college," Scott said. "But that is  _ not _ what I was asking you."

"What were you asking me?" Stiles slumped down next to Scott with resignation, and he fumbled with the hoodie he just got from Derek's room.

"You think I didn't notice the other day?" Scott chuckled, his eyebrow still raised, like he was challenging Stiles to try and argue. "When you and Derek disappeared into his room?"

Stiles' jaw dropped, because he was counting on Scott's usual lack of observation skills, especially since he'd been studying at the time.

"And do you think I don't know what that book was?" Scott grinned wider, and Stiles blushed.

"I… no… yes…" Stiles stumbled over his words. "Wait, how do  _ you _ know that book?"

"Dude," Scott rolled his eyes. "That's completely beside the point right now. Not that I understand what you two could've found in it that would be interesting," he shrugged.

"Bisexual, Scott, it's a thing," Stiles bristled. "It's not like girls stopped being awesome."

"Since you realized you're into Derek, you mean?" Scott laughed.

"Boys," Stiles said. "Since I realized I'm into  _ boys _ … men… you know what I mean."

"Yep, I know," Scott grinned again. "Derek. So, what's going on?"

"I don’t know," Stiles admitted.

"You know I'm not going to tell anyone, right?" Scott tried to reassure Stiles, obviously thinking that Stiles wasn't saying anything for that reason.

"No, Scott, I know that," Stiles rushed to explain. "It's just, I really don't  _ know _ . We've…" he glanced towards the hallway, and when he saw that Derek's door was still closed, he took a deep breath before continuing. "We've kissed," Stiles said quietly.

"Okay, don't go into too much detail," Scott interrupted him before Stiles could say more.

"There is no more detail," Stiles' shoulders slumped a little. "Don't get me wrong, the kissing is great. I like the kissing. It's a very good example of kissing," he blurted out.

"But you want more," Scott said, not as a question but a statement.

"Maybe?" Stiles responded. "It's only been a few days, but…" he took another deep breath before he looked at Scott again."I really like him."

"Have you tried telling him?" Scott's face was schooled into an ' _ I'm your best friend and I'm trying to give you serious advice _ ' expression.

"I'm pretty sure me kissing him back is a good indicator that I am into him, bro," Stiles shrugged.

"Yeah, but there's a difference between being into someone and really liking them," Scott said.

Stiles looked at Scott with a dumfounded expression for a while, because it was a good point, but not one that Stiles -- to his own surprise -- had thought of. Well, not when it came to Derek, Stiles  _ did _ do his share of wondering if Derek genuinely liked him, or if it was something less.

"What?" Scott asked when he couldn't stand Stiles' silence anymore.

"That's a very good point, Scotty," Stiles said.

"What's a good point?" Derek's voice made both of them startle and they whipped their heads around towards the hallway.

"Nothing," Stiles said a little too quickly.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't ask any more. Instead, he took a step into their room, and he leaned against the wardrobe opposite their beds.

"So, Cora has thrown a tantrum worth a two year old," Derek said, and Scott and Stiles chuckled at the muted "Hey!" that came from Derek's room. "Which means that apparently, we're throwing a New Year's party here this year," Derek continued like he heard nothing.

"Oh, that sounds cool," Scott said, while Stiles was still processing the information and wondering what it meant. "Who's coming back for it?"

"My sisters, obviously," Derek nodded towards his room, "because they're  _ organizing the food at least _ ," he added louder, and chuckled at Cora's "duh" that came out of his room. "I don't know if Cora already roped everyone else in, but I was hoping you'd be there?"

Scott agreed with enthusiasm, which Stiles assumed was because he was hoping that Kira would also be there. But Stiles didn't miss the way Derek's eyes were pointedly aimed at him, instead of at Scott, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, sure," he said a moment later. "I mean, Dad will be working anyway, and -- no offence, Scotty -- it beats starting the year with a CoD tournament. Only just, though," he added with a smirk.

Almost as soon as Stiles said the words though, he wanted to take them back. He watched as Derek's face fell just a fraction, not enough for Scott -- who was already musing about Kira, Stiles guessed from the dopey smile on his best friend's face -- to notice. Stiles glanced between the two, and then his eyes locked on Derek, who had his head bent to look at the floor. With Cora still in Derek's room, though, Stiles couldn’t do what he wanted right then: pull Derek there and reassure him that the comment was solely to throw Scott off, and not because he didn't want to spend New Year's Eve with Derek.

"I'll… yeah, I'm sure Cora will let you guys know what the plan is," Derek muttered then, and looked back up only to start moving back towards his room.

"Der…" Stiles' voice cracked even on that one syllable that he managed to push out.

It wasn't enough to get Derek's attention, but it did bring Scott out of his daydream, and his eyes darted between Stiles and Derek a few times.

"So, eh, I'm gonna go ask Kira if she's coming then," Scott blurted, and he jumped up from the bed. "Stiles is  _ awesome _ at party planning," he rambled on, ignoring Stiles' attempts to stop him. "Just so you know," he finished, and when he slipped past Derek in the hallway, Scott gave him a nudge back into the triple.

Then Scott winked at Stiles in a way that made Stiles' eyes roll back, and moments later, the door to their quarter slammed twice -- the second, Stiles guessed, was Cora whom he glimpsed rushing out of Derek's room. He wondered for a second if she overheard the last bit of the conversation, but he didn't dwell on it after his eyes landed again on Derek's face.

"So," Stiles started with caution, "where does Cora want to throw this party? Here on the floor or somewhere bigger? I kind of can't see her doing anything small, really. And if she happens to get Lydia involved…"

He knew that mentioning Lydia was a bad move the moment he saw Derek tense yet again. So Stiles' brain spun fast to try and come up with a way to steer the comments to what he was originally aiming for.

"I'm sure she won't mind if you guys still do your CoD thing," Derek said before Stiles found his voice again.

"Der, that's not…" Stiles shook his head. "I'd rather do something else," he added quietly.

"Oh?" Derek looked at Stiles, still looking disappointed.

"You, actually," Stiles blurted then. "I mean, no wait, yes, but…" he started rambling when he realized how his answer sounded. "Not that I wouldn't want to  _ do _ you, but that's not what I meant," he tried to explain.

When Derek's shoulders started shaking with laughter, and Stiles could see the corners of his eyes crinkling with the smile that took over Derek's face, he relaxed a bit. Sure, he still felt the heat in his cheeks because of his rambling and inappropriate suggestions, but he figured that he managed to somehow not screw up monumentally.

"Well, I don't know about Cora letting us do that," Derek chuckled, and walked to Stiles' bed. "But I'm thinking something could be arranged," he said then, and he sat down next to Stiles. "If you want to, that is."

"Duh," Stiles said, and then he slapped a hand over his mouth again. "'m not gonna speak anymore," he mumbled from behind his fingers.

"That would be a pity," Derek whispered. "I like your voice."

Stiles looked at Derek, his hand still over his mouth, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Like you too," he said, but his words were muffled by his hand.

Derek laughed then, and he reached up to Stiles' hand, pulled it away from Stiles' face and linked their fingers together.

"So, is it big confession time?" Derek asked, his lips turned up in a soft smile. "Because if it  _ is _ , I really  _ really _ like you. I thought you should know."

Stiles' cheeks were burning, and it took him a moment to realize what Derek was saying.

"You heard us earlier," Stiles stated, knowing that the blush in his cheeks was probably more obvious than usually.

"Yeah, I did," Derek said with a smile. "Doesn't make it any less true, though."

"Oh well, that's good," Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief, "Because I like you too. Aaaand now I feel like we're in the playground."

"I can find a notebook and write a 'Do you like me, circle yes or no' note, if that would be better?" Derek teased.

"God no," Stiles mumbled, and he leaned against Derek. "I'm sorry," he added.

"What are you sorry for?" Derek asked him in a confused tone.

"I should've told you sooner," Stiles said. "I just… it's not like I  _ had _ a proper relationship before," he blushed again, and cleared his increasingly dry throat. "I mean, not that this is one, though I'd want it to be," he rambled on, "but before this anyone I was into, well, it wasn’t something I'd think of as being possible, and now it is but I don't…" Stiles took a deep breath before speaking again. "I don't know what I'm doing, is what I'm trying to say."

"It's not like I'm an expert, Stiles," Derek said and Stiles could feel the pressure of Derek's fingers around his own. "Some would say that no experience is better than knowing that every relationship you had was fucked up."

"Der, that's…" Stiles startled at those words, and he turned to look at Derek. "Okay, first of all, no relationship is like any other," he said with determination, "so whatever happened before says nothing about what you  _ can _ have."

"Can I, though?" Derek asked, and a smile tugged on his lips.

"If you want to, yeah," Stiles nodded and bit his lip. "It's sort of what I was trying to say before, though I get how it probably didn't make sense."

"I would like to," Derek said then, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against Stiles'. "For this to be a relationship, I mean."

"Good, me too," Stiles grinned. "Now that that's settled, want to go be serious grownups and talk, or…"

" _ Or _ sounds promising," Derek said with a teasing smile. "But I think we should talk."

Stiles paused, and he tried to prepare himself for the conversation that Derek clearly wanted to have. It wasn't like Stiles didn't  _ want _ to know, but he also wanted Derek to be willing to share whatever it was that clearly still haunted him. They didn't get a chance, though, because the front door slammed open and Isaac rushed through the hallway and towards his wardrobe.

"My room?" Derek whispered, after they both glanced to Isaac, who didn't seem at all phased by them being in the room, or holding hands -- Stiles guessed that Isaac didn't notice that particular detail.

"Yeah, how about locking the door to keep Cora out this time, though?" Stiles suggested, and got up, tugging on Derek's hand.

Just then, Isaac looked around, alerted by the movement, and his eyes flew open at the sight of Stiles and Derek's hands.

"You… I…" Isaac stuttered. "Shit, sorry, I'll be…"

"It's okay, Isaac," Stiles said, still trying to pull Derek up from the bed. "Just… don't say anything to Scott, please? He'll sulk if he doesn't hear it from me."

"So there is an  _ it _ ?" Isaac raised an eyebrow, and then laughed when Stiles' expression turned into a glare. "What? I just want to know if he owes me. Was it the book?"

Stiles felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and finally,  _ finally _ Derek moved and pushed Stiles towards the hallway, looking just as flustered as Stiles felt.

"I'll take that as a yes," they heard Isaac call out, and Stiles decided to ignore the laughter that followed them until the door to Derek's room clicked closed behind them.

They didn't start talking immediately, even though Stiles thought they would. Instead, Derek pulled him straight on top of the bed, and kissed him before Stiles could say anything at all. That was enough to completely derail Stiles' thoughts, and he got lost in the taste of Derek's lips on his own, in the warmth coming from Derek's whole body. The kisses didn't escalate into anything more, but right then, it was enough. Eventually, though, Derek pulled away, reached for Stiles' hand, and they settled on the pillows, facing each other.

"We should talk, I guess," Derek whispered, like he was afraid to shatter the moment between them.

"You know you don't  _ have to _ tell me anything, right?" Stiles said, letting his thumb stroke over Derek's skin. "Either way, it won't change the fact that I like you."

"It might," Derek mumbled. "I wouldn't blame you if you ran away."

"Derek, stop," Stiles frowned. "It's not that easy to get rid of me, just ask Scott."

"Scott never hurt anyone," Derek whispered. "And he didn't cause anyone getting hurt either, with his own stupidity."

"See, right there, that's  _ not _ true," Stiles said, and he shifted closer to Derek, enough so that their knees brushed against each other. "I can't tell you too much without implicating myself, but let's just say there's a reason Scott isn't playing sports anymore. And that his competitiveness almost landed  _ me _ in a hospital. He's still my best friend."

Derek stared at Stiles for a while, and then his fingers tightened around Stiles', his eyes closed, and he took a shaky breath before he started speaking.

"Back in high school, before you were there, there was a girl," Derek spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, but loud enough that Stiles could hear. "Her name was Paige, and she was…" Derek's lips turned into a soft smile at the memory for a second. "She was a lot like you, actually. Didn't take any of my or anyone else's shit, ran circles around everyone with her smartness and words."

Stiles knocked his knee against Derek's in what he hoped was a gentle reminder that he was still there, but without trying to push Derek into saying more than he wanted to.

"She had… I can't remember what the stupid diagnosis was, but it was making her weak really fast," Derek whispered. "She found this thing somewhere, an alternative treatment that was supposed to help, but it wasn't guaranteed. No one else knew; her Mom was all about not stepping out of line, not trying anything that wasn't completely approved by the hospital. So she asked me, and I…" Derek gulped, and Stiles felt the tremors in Derek's hand. "I told her to try."

"Der…" Stiles whispered, but he knew that Derek wasn't listening right then.

"It turned out that one of the herbs or shit that was part of the treatment triggered an allergic reaction or something," Derek explained, his voice shaky. "She could've… the thing she had would've killed her slowly, painlessly. Instead, because of me… she had a seizure, a really bad and painful one, then her body shut down, and she never woke up again."

"You were with her," Stiles said, realizing what Derek's words meant.

He could see Derek nodding, and then Stiles spotted the way his jaw set into a defensive clench, though there was a damp patch where Derek's eye met the pillow.

"Der, you couldn't have known," Stiles whispered, and he leaned in to press his lips against Derek's forehead. "You were what, fifteen or sixteen? You couldn't have known it would go badly."

"I'm the one who told her to try," Derek said, his voice hoarse. "She wouldn't have…"

"You're saying what she had gave her no hope," Stiles kept his voice low. "She wanted hope. Sometimes a little hope, even for just a while, even if it doesn't work out in the end, is better than knowing there's no way out."

Derek looked up then, and Stiles blinked to push his own tears away.

"Your Mom," Derek whispered, and Stiles nodded.

"Only, there was no alternative for her," Stiles said. "We looked, the doctors did, Dad did, and we searched for everything. Nada."

"Stiles, I…" Derek started, but Stiles shook his head.

"It's been a while," Stiles said with a soft smile, the memories no longer only bringing pain. "But my point is, I'd have done the same, and so would my Dad, had there been something to try. And if it failed anyway, it wouldn't have been our fault, the same way Paige wasn't yours. Think about it, if she had not tried, would you both have regrets?"

"Probably," Derek whispered. "It's not easy to stop the 'what if' though."

"I know it's not, but you can try," Stiles said.

"That's… Paige was just the start of it," Derek said with a tone that told Stiles more than any words ever could. "I'm pretty sure you've heard about Kate," he continued, and Stiles shivered at the amount of venom that seeped through Derek's voice when he said her name.

"I didn't, actually," Stiles said. "At least I've heard nothing that would have connected her to you specifically. The records were sealed… and well, even though normally that wouldn't have stopped me, Dad went to painstaking lengths to keep me out, even later when the trial happened."

"You were what, ten, when she…" Derek choked on the next word, and Stiles squeezed his hand.

"Yeah, just when I was starting to snoop around Dad's cases, actually," Stiles admitted sheepishly.

The corner of Derek's mouth twitched, and it was enough to relax Stiles a little.

"I was a minor then, still," Derek started speaking, and Stiles could feel Derek's fingers tighten around his own. "That's probably why the records were kept so locked down. Sixteen, stupid, naïve. She had a grudge against  _ Peter _ of all people, because not only did he turn her down for a fling with her brother…"

Stiles' eyes widened in surprise at that, because he realized it was Allison's father. But Derek didn't seem to notice, and he kept talking.

"Peter then… I don't know how things with Chris ended, but probably not too well," Derek shrugged. "A few months after that, Peter was married. Not to Chris, obviously."

"Wow," Stiles breathed out.

"Kate was sixteen when she tried to charm him, so she thought that targeting  _ me _ would be appropriate," Derek said with bitterness and anger in his voice. "She used me to get to Peter and to my family. And I was the idiot who fell for it."

"This was…" Stiles was lost for words.

He realized that it couldn't have been too long after Paige died, and that Derek was angrier at himself than at anyone else involved.

"Der, I'm sorry," Stiles finally managed to say. "I'm sorry she did that to you, and to everyone."

The death toll that the arson at the Hale house resulted in was no secret. Stiles knew that Laura, Derek, and Cora were the only ones of their family left, that they'd lost their parents and a younger brother. But what Stiles didn't know was who'd been the target. Peter and probably his wife who also didn't make it out alive.

"She had me fooled, snuck into the house with me a few times," Derek kept talking quietly, like he couldn't stop. "I was the reason she knew how to get in undetected. It was a  _ game _ ; she tricked me into believing we were sneaking in so she wouldn't get into trouble."

"She was the adult, Der, not you," Stiles said, though he knew Derek probably heard it all before.

"You know when she got caught and sentenced, I thought it wasn't enough," Derek opened his eyes and looked at Stiles. "I thought she should've gone on death row. And then…"

Stiles remembered that part -- he'd been in high school when Kate was brought to trial, after new evidence surfaced -- and he cringed at the memory. He'd only heard about things: the trial, how Kate got away with next to nothing because she hadn't actually been the one who  _ set _ the fire, but she'd had someone else do it for her. The guys who did it got targeted in prison the moment they were locked up, and none of them survived -- their inmates didn't treat them nicely for setting fire to a house filled with an innocent family that included children.

Kate, though; Kate had gotten away with a laughable sentence in a prison that was supposed to guarantee her safety. Stiles remembered how big of a deal it became when the guarantee didn't hold, and someone ended up getting to her anyway. No one focused on her death much, though, only on the exposed security flaws in the prison itself.

"What kind of a person does it make me," Derek said in a broken tone, "when I'm glad that happened?"

"Not a bad person, Der," Stiles whispered and shuffled closer. "Not after what she did."

Derek shook his head, he closed his eyes again, and then he turned his face into the pillow.

"Cora and Laura don't know about everything," Derek added, his voice muffled. "Laura probably suspects, but she never brought it up. And Cora was too young when it happened."

"I'm not going to talk to them about it," Stiles promised.

"Thank you," Derek whispered. "Though really, that's three out of three reasons for why I shouldn't try relationships."

"Hey, you've not messed up with me yet," Stiles frowned.

"No, not  _ us _ ," Derek turned to face Stiles again. "There was a girl, when I started here," Derek sighed. "And again, I should've known better."

"Maybe it's  _ girls _ that are the issue?" Stiles tried for a lighter tone.

"Maybe," Derek smiled. "This one at least ended with everyone still alive," he added with an acidic tone. "Though only just, Laura was all too close to doing something drastic. But in the end, it was just… overwhelming. Jennifer was a bit of a stalker and manipulator, and tried to cut me off from Laura. But after Kate I couldn't trust anyone entirely, so that probably, in a completely twisted way, helped."

"That's…" Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Shit, I… I want to say thank you for trusting me, but that sounds  _ wrong _ . I wish you didn't have stories like this to tell."

"I do, though," Derek's lips were still turned up, even though they dropped a bit when he mentioned Kate a moment earlier. "I trust you."

Stiles knew the moment the words were out of Derek's mouth just how big of a deal it was that Derek said it. That he had Derek's trust after everything was  _ huge _ . On one hand Stiles wondered if he was worthy of that, but on the other it filled him with more hope for what they could be than he allowed himself before.

"Thank you," he whispered to Derek, and leaned in for a gentle kiss. "I… thank you."

Derek smiled into the kiss, and returned it with a little more want than Stiles intended for it. Not that Stiles was about to complain, though. They kissed for a while, their linked hands still in the space between them, the rest of the world forgotten. Then Derek pulled away, and Stiles, despite trying hard to not make light of the situation, couldn't help himself.

"Really, though, maybe it's a good thing I'm not a girl," he smirked a little, and bit his lip as he waited for Derek's reaction, hoping the comment wouldn't backfire.

"Oh, it's a very good thing," Derek chuckled, to Stiles' relief.

"Not that I can offer experience, or anything, though," Stiles blushed. "I've pitifully little of that," he admitted quietly.

"We can learn together," Derek said. "Not like I have much… with certain parts. Obviously, besides my own," he added with a wink.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip hard, harder than he meant to, because Derek's words did absolutely  _ not _ help with quenching the imagery in Stiles' mind. Just the opposite, Derek's mention of experience with himself brought on a barrage of images, not in the least aided by the fact that they were in Derek's bed, where said experience was most likely obtained. And Stiles wasn't sure what to do with that 'confession'.

He told Derek that, and he was met with a chuckle and a sudden blanket of warmth as Derek shifted closer, and Stiles gasped into the kiss that Derek pressed into his mouth.

"We'll just have to find out, won't we?" Derek muttered against Stiles' lips.

"Tease," Stiles mumbled back. "Not fair."

Derek laughed openly then, and Stiles couldn't help but chuckle too. His own mood shifted from the seriousness from earlier, when he was listening to Derek's memories. For a moment he wondered if it was too quick a change, and he was ready to slow Derek down -- there was a nagging voice at the back of Stiles' head that was telling him that he wanted to do things right. Pressure and rushing into things were the last things that would keep them on track, he knew that. But it was hard to keep a clear head when Stiles felt Derek's thigh slip between his own legs.

"Der…" Stiles breathed against Derek's mouth, and he tried to squirm away a little, so Derek wouldn't feel just how much their position and kissing were affecting him.

At first, Derek stopped and frowned at Stiles pulling away, but then Stiles watched realization sweep over Derek's face.

"I'm sorry, I…" Derek started to apologize, but Stiles stopped him with a quick kiss.

"No, nothing to be sorry for," he said with a smile. "I just… this means a lot to me, you know? I don't want us to mess up."

"Slow?" Derek asked, his tone a mixture of understanding and gratefulness.

"Yeah, slow," Stiles nodded, and then failed to hold back a weak moan when Derek moved and brushed his thigh against Stiles' cock. "Well,  _ mostly _ slow. Not sure how I can handle slow with all this," he freed his hand and waved it at Derek.

"Don't think I can handle too much of slow either," Derek gritted through his teeth, and he dipped his head until his face was buried in Stiles' neck.

"With me? Should be easy," Stiles said, and he tilted his head, baring his neck to Derek, who immediately started kissing the sensitive skin there. " _ Not _ helping, Hale."

"Your everything is extremely unhelpful," Derek continued kissing Stiles' skin, dipping down towards his collarbone. "Don't know why you think it would be easy to resist."

"So, you want up on  _ all this _ ," Stiles joked, waving a hand along his body.

"Up, down, whichever way," Derek lifted his head and smirked. "Got a preference?"

"Uh," Stiles breathed out, suddenly feeling like his brain was going to explode.

Somewhere between the next two breaths, his brain conjured up images of both possibilities: Derek on top of him, hands roaming under Stiles' clothes, lips leaving damp trails of kisses and marks down Stiles' neck. The other image made him shudder: he thought of himself sitting in Derek's lap, fingers tangled in the dark hair as he'd be kissing bruises into the skin on Derek's collarbone.

"It doesn't have to be now," Derek whispered and brought Stiles back to reality. "I just want you to know, whatever you're thinking right now, I've probably already hoped it would happen."

"That's a dangerous assumption to make," Stiles said when he finally found his voice again.

"How about this," Derek smiled, still holding himself above Stiles' body, "We'll both think about it, and when you come back for the New Year's party, we'll compare notes."

"Are you suggesting we both compile a what? A kinks list?" Stiles chuckled then, finally feeling a little more relaxed, more like himself.

His body was still humming from the closeness of Derek's warmth, he still felt the pressure of Derek's thigh against his own, but jokes and teasing were safe ground for him.

"Call it whatever you want," Derek kept smiling.

"Stiles' Superb Sex Selection," Stiles said in a deadpan tone.

At that, Derek burst into laughter, then his arms gave out and he slumped on top of Stiles.

"Ugh, heavy, get off of me," Stiles grunted when the weight of Derek's body pressed him into the bed. "No squashing Stiles."

Derek, still chuckling, rolled to Stiles' side and linked their fingers again.

"Good thing I have the holidays to think about it," Derek said. "It will take a while to beat  _ that _ name, at least."

"Hey, no knocking the alliterations," Stiles pouted, and Derek leaned in to kiss the pout away.


	8. Chapter 8

Christmas had always been a quiet affair for Stiles and his Dad, ever since his Mom had died. He remembered snippets from before that, though he tried hard to forget her last two -- at least the parts that weren't pleasant. She'd already been sick then, and that was when it started -- making only the absolutely necessary while still having a holiday atmosphere in the house -- because she wasn't able to help anymore. Stiles had scattered memories of music, of his Mom and Dad singing in the kitchen while they prepared the Christmas Day dinner, but they were foggy and felt like they belonged into a different reality.

What he remembered clearly were the parts where they'd listened to carols on the radio, while he'd been cuddled up under a blanket with his Mom, and the Sheriff had been trying to do his best in the kitchen. Big family dinners had never happened -- Stiles' grandparents were either living too far away, or were gone since before he could remember.

It was one of the first things that made him think when he got back home, after a very reluctant goodbye to Derek -- and Cora, who was flying to New York with Derek the next day -- at the dorms. Stiles wondered how much their holidays had changed, if they even celebrated at all. Cora had told him that they had some family in the city, but that it was mostly only them.

"Hey kiddo," John walked into the dining room where Stiles was pretending to be watching TV. "What’s with the long face?"

"Just thinking," Stiles answered quietly, digging his fingers into the armrest of the chair.

"Looks to me like a little bit more than just thinking," John sat down opposite Stiles, and threw him a questioning glance.

"It's nothing, really," Stiles shook his head. "Holidays make me think too much. Time off makes me think too much, actually."

"Kiddo, hate to break it to you, but you never stop, holidays or not," John chuckled. "What's it about this time?"

"Mom," Stiles said quietly. "I was trying to remember Christmas before…"

He let his voice fade out; there was no need to state before  _ what _ , because both him and his Dad knew what Stiles meant. He watched as John's lips turned into a hesitant and nostalgic smile, and Stiles echoed it.

"She loved the holidays," John said. "I was useless at trying to make them great for you after, no I was," he insisted when Stiles let out a protesting sound. "She was the one who always dragged me out for the tree early, knew where the decorations were. I mean, I've tried, but…" John shrugged.

"We did okay, Dad," Stiles grinned. "Well, except for the first one and the turkey."

Both of them burst into laughter as they recalled the undercooked bird, the stuffing that was way too salty, and the defeat with which they'd pulled out pizza from the freezer eventually.

"Hey, pizza saved the day that time," John said a little defensively, but he was still laughing.

"The only thing that saves the day better than pizza are curly fries," Stiles said, his voice turning serious.

"Sure, kid," John chuckled. "Far be it for me to ever stand between you and your curly fries."

Stiles let out a "humph" to let his Dad know that he wasn't appreciating the teasing, but his lips turned into a small smile anyway. Then his thoughts snuck up on him again, and he glanced at the TV to try and distract himself.

"Your mother isn't the only thing that's making you think this hard though, is it?" John asked after a moment, while Stiles was still staring blankly at the screen in front of him.

"Huh?" Stiles turned around and narrowed his eyes at his Dad.

"Have the Hales gone to New York for the holidays?"

"Uhh, Dad, what?" Stiles flailed and stuttered.

"Interesting panic mode there, son," John grinned at him. "Just a question, I was wondering if they went back."

"Yeah," Stiles let out a sigh. "Well, Laura went last week, Derek and Cora are flying out today."

"Is that why you're glued to your phone?" John grinned and he glanced at the phone by Stiles' hand.

"I'm not… what?" Stiles blurted out and blushed.

Derek did promise to keep in touch when Stiles was leaving, and Stiles hoped he'd hear from him once they landed in New York. But he wasn't  _ glued _ to the phone; at least no more than usual. He said so to his Dad, but the moment the words were out, Stiles knew they were falling on deaf ears.

"I was wondering if they'd be around here this year," John said, still smirking at Stiles' nervousness. "Laura was in town a few weeks ago, did you know they're reconstructing the house?"

"I thought it wasn't stable enough for that?" Stiles frowned, remembering some of the newspaper reports about the burnt out shell of what he could only guess used to be a beautiful mansion.

"That was the initial assessment," John explained. "Laura got someone else to look at it, and most of it was fine. They've put a lot of work into it since the summer."

"Oh, they didn't mention moving back at all," Stiles said, mostly to himself.

"I don't know if they're planning to, Laura didn't say anything either," John said then, and Stiles didn't miss the curious glance from his Dad. "She did mention that the place still meant a lot to them."

"So you thought the house was finished by now and they'd spend the holidays here?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, but…"

"Didn't the fire happen around Christmas, though?" Stiles finished the thought that John started, and his Dad nodded in response. "I wouldn't expect them to come back around the same time of the year."

"Yeah, now that you said it, probably not," John said. "Anyway, how is Derek doing?"

"Again, Dad?" Stiles frowned, remembering how John asked about Derek during several of Stiles' phone calls,  _ and _ when Stiles came back for some of the weekends. "He's fine," he said then with a sigh. "Working on his thesis, surviving having Scott, Isaac, and me as roommates… why are you so curious about Derek anyway?"

"Drop the defense, kid," John laughed. "He's the only one of your friends I end up asking about, because for some strange reason," he raised an eyebrow at Stiles, "you never mention him by yourself."

"It's not like I give you a report on all of my friends every time, Dad," Stiles grumbled.

"You kind of do, Stiles," John laughed. "Maybe except for the lovely Miss Martin and that is interesting too. You used to talk about nothing  _ but _ her for a long time."

Stiles kept frowning at his Dad for a while, but he didn't comment on whatever thoughts the Sheriff was  _ not _ saying out loud. The silence stretched between them, and eventually Stiles broke, unable to deal with the quiet stand-off.

"Anyway, how's Melissa these days?" Stiles asked with a smirk.

"Is that really how you want to play it?" John smiled right back.

"What do you want me to say, Dad?" Stiles sighed then. "Derek's fine, everything is fine."

"Okay, I won't do a full interrogation on you," John relented, and Stiles sent him a thankful look. "I was only asking because you seemed happier lately, whenever Derek's name came up in conversation, that's all."

"There's not much to tell, Dad," Stiles said quietly.

"Kid, I just want to remind you of what I said before," John spoke softly. "I love you, no matter what, okay? No judgment, no disappointment, as long as you're happy."

"Dad, I…" Stiles started, but his voice broke.

He did want to tell his Dad about Derek, but Stiles couldn't stop thinking that there really wasn't all that much to say. Talking about kissing  _ anyone _ wasn't on the cards, and while Stiles knew that what Derek and he had was an actual relationship, it still felt like it was too soon to casually mention it. He took a deep breath, and looked at his Dad who was badly pretending that he was interested in what was on the TV screen.

"We're dating, I guess," Stiles whispered, feeling like he was talking to himself more than to his Dad. "There was a talk about a relationship, but we're… there's a lot of history."

"The boy didn't have it easy," John said when Stiles went silent. "Neither did you, kid."

"Dad…"

"No, listen for a second," John turned to Stiles. "I'm not saying you two should bond over bad stuff that happened. But you both deserve to be happy, son."

"You too, you know?" Stiles smiled.

He didn’t miss the blush that rose in his Dad's cheeks before John quickly turned to the TV again. That alone told Stiles that he was probably going to win the bet with Scott, but he decided not to push it. Having wanted to be Scott's bro officially for so long, Stiles figured he could wait another little while.

'A little while' turned out to be until the next day, when Scott and Melissa came over for Christmas dinner planning. She walked in after Scott, went straight to John, and then after a cautious glance to Stiles and Scott she leaned against John's side and took his hand.

"Ah yesss," Stiles fist-pumped at the sight, and he held out a palm to Scott who grudgingly pulled a note out of his pocket and placed it there.

"Really? You  _ bet _ on us?" John sighed with exasperation.

"Hey, better than the plans we had at making you two get there," Stiles grinned happily as he waved to the parents.

"I'm going to say I'm glad you didn't," John grumbled. "And change the topic to something less scarring, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, you two lovebirds can go discuss whatever topic you want in the sitting room," Stiles kept grinning. "Bro, come help me finish dinner," he turned to Scott, who was still looking slightly defeated at having lost the bet.

"Dude, we can actually be brothers now," Scott said with a bright smile when they walked into the kitchen. "I mean, not that we aren't bros already, but this is pretty awesome!"

"Yeah," Stiles grinned, "it is. I'm just glad they didn't decide to string us along for another few years, I wouldn't have put it past my Dad."

"I think if he had known about the bet, he probably would have," Scott sighed. "I should've…"

"Scott McCall, don't even  _ think _ what you're thinking right now," Stiles glared. "I won that twenty fair and square."

Scott sulked for a few minutes, but they quickly fell into a rhythm in the kitchen, neither of them worried about ruining anything, because Stiles had most of the food under control. Scott was given the mostly safe task of cutting vegetables for the salad, and they fell into a chat about a new game that Scott was dying to try out over the break.

"Hey, how's Derek anyway?" Scott asked out of the blue when they stopped talking for a while.

"Okay, I guess," Stiles shrugged. "They were flying today, haven't heard from him yet, but it's not like he promised to let me know.

Stiles couldn't help the little pang of hurt at his words. He was hardwired to worry, and Derek not being in touch since Stiles left BCT was the opposite of reassuring. Scott's eyebrows scrunched, and Stiles could almost see the comforting words that were about to spill from Scott's mouth. Before it happened, Stiles' phone buzzed, and the vibrations made it dance around the counter.

"Go, man, I've got this," Scott laughed, when he saw Stiles' eyes widen at the sight of Derek's name on the screen. "I promise I won't cut myself  _ or _ set something on fire."

Scott saying that was exactly the reason why Stiles poked his head into the sitting room and called out that he was going to take a call. Without checking if his Dad and Melissa heard him or paid him any attention, Stiles ran up the stairs, unlocking the screen as he went.

"Hey," he breathed out when he answered the call.

"Hi," Derek's voice was followed by a chuckle. "Were you actually doing some exercise?"

"No, just ran up the stairs to my room," Stiles said, still a little out of breath. "Privacy. We have a full house tonight."

"Catch your breath," Derek laughed. "You sound like you were panicking," he added in a more serious tone.

"Was worried a bit," Stiles mumbled.

"Cora is fine, don't worry," Derek said, his voice full of amusement. "She says hello," he said after a hiss.

Stiles heard a muffled "ouch" and then a door slamming on the other end of the line, and he guessed that Derek had thrown Cora out of whatever room he was in.

"Siblings, ugh," Derek added after a pause.

"Can't complain, I just got one today," Stiles grinned at that comment.

"The Sheriff and Mrs. McCall won you the bet, then?" Derek asked, chuckling again.

"Scott stopped talking to me," Stiles said, almost proudly.

"That couldn't have lasted long," Derek said. "You two wouldn't function without talking to each other. Especially if he's there now."

"Not  _ here _ here, but yeah, he and Melissa are over for dinner," Stiles said. "Which I'll have to go finish soon," he added with a disappointed tone.

"I won't keep you long," Derek promised. "I just wanted to check in now that we're off the plane and in the apartment. I…"

Derek paused, and Stiles wondered what it was that he stopped himself from saying.

"Thank you," he said instead of asking about it. "How was the flight?"

"Long, boring, frustrating, Cora wouldn't shut up," Derek groaned. "She's been threatening me with bodily harm if I even considered moping all Christmas. Apparently I'm not excited enough about the holidays."

"Are you the Grinch, Der?" Stiles teased. "Are you a Christmas ruiner?"

"I'm  _ not _ ," Derek protested. "I just… it's…"

"Der, I'm sorry," Stiles said quietly, remembering the conversation with his Dad, and what memories the holidays probably brought to Derek and Laura.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Derek said. "Cora doesn't get it, she was… it was just  _ after _ Christmas, and she doesn't have that association."

"Can I help make it easier?" Stiles asked, though he really had no idea what he could do for Derek.

"Can I call you tomorrow? Or some other time while I'm here?" Derek asked cautiously, like he didn't want to request too much.

"Of course!" Stiles immediately agreed. "I'll be glad to hear you," he said, trying to not let it seep into his voice how much he already missed Derek.

"Stiles!" John's voice rang from the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

"I have to go," Stiles said into the phone with reluctance. "If it doesn't get too late, I could call you when Scott and Melissa leave? If that won't be too late for you, I mean."

"Yeah," Derek agreed. "I'm on Cali time anyway, so don't worry about time zones."

"I'll talk to you later, Der," Stiles grinned, and hung up when he heard Derek's "bye".

"How's loverboy?" Scott asked when Stiles walked into the kitchen.

"Shut up," Stiles muttered, and he pushed a stack of plates that he pulled off the shelf at Scott. "Make yourself useful," he grinned.

"Hey, I chopped up the salad," Scott protested, but without any real heat to his words. "Without adding any fingers, too."

"Aw, so proud of you, Scotty," Stiles smirked. "We might just manage to domesticate you."

"Asshole," Scott glared at Stiles playfully.

"Children, language," Melissa said with a laugh as she walked into the dining room. "How's Derek?"

"Fine," Stiles muttered quietly, feeling a blush creep up his face. "He's fine."

"Cute," Scott said under his breath.

Stiles rolled his eyes and tried to not let his embarrassment show too much, but he could feel everyone's eyes on him as they set the table.

"So," he said when they sat down, "which one of you managed to actually move this thing," he waved a hand between his Dad and Melissa, "finally forward?"

Melissa ducked her head, but not before she glanced at John across the table.

"Mom, then," Scott commented to Stiles, who nodded in agreement.

"Hey!" John tried to speak up, but everyone else at the table laughed.

"It's not like I expected  _ you _ to make a move, Dad," Stiles chuckled. "Otherwise you would've made it years ago."

"That's what I told him," Melissa said, and her words were followed by another insulted expression from the Sheriff and laughter from Scott and Stiles.

The rest of the dinner passed with easy conversation and catching up, from Scott and Stiles who reported on their exams, and from their parents, who were talked into sharing where they'd gone on their first date.

"Really, Dad?" Stiles sighed dramatically. "I am disappointed; you did the boring dinner and movie thing?"

"Where did  _ you _ take Derek on a date then," John challenged. "Since you're such an expert on all things romance now."

Stiles froze, and his mind whirred as he tried to think of something that he could mention to his Dad without embarrassing himself.

"'S still all new," he muttered. "Not like we had a chance with exams and stuff."

"Did you guys even have a date, or just…" Scott started, but cut himself off when Stiles shot him a warning glare.

"Yeah, okay, I don't want to know," John threw his hands up. " _ Please _ don't share those details."

"I wasn't going to," Stiles said feeling his ears burn in embarrassment.

That effectively ended all discussion of romantic entanglements. It surprised Stiles a little that Melissa didn’t bring up Kira, or that Scott wasn't his usual over-sharing self about the girl in his life. Later, when they escaped to Stiles' room after the dishes were cleared up and their parents settled to watch a movie, Stiles eyed Scott with curiosity.

"What?" Scott frowned, when he couldn’t ignore Stiles' narrowed eyes anymore.

"How's Kira?" Stiles asked, trying to be subtle.

"Fine," Scott shrugged.

"Okay, bro, what's up?" Stiles asked then with more empathy, because the short answer was definitely not what he'd expected. "Where's the usual level of fawning over your awesome girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Scott said quietly, but there was no sign of hurt or disappointment in his voice.

"Huh?"

"We broke up," Scott shrugged.

"You're," Stiles narrowed his eyes again, "surprisingly calm about that. Wanna elaborate a little?"

Scott sighed, and he lay down on Stiles' bed, fixing his eyes on the ceiling.

"It just wasn't working," Scott spoke, and Stiles tried to listen for any hint of heartbreak. "She's sweet, we like each other, but… it didn't feel right."

"Sorry, man," Stiles said, and he lay down on the bed too. "I was just surprised, because you two were inseparable for a while."

"Well, yeah, but…" Scott's voice faded out as he shrugged again. "Guess it wasn't meant to be."

"Is she coming back for the party?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, she is," Scott nodded. "But no worries, I'm not skipping out on it because of her. Mom's working the night anyway, and I don't want to spend it alone, that wouldn't be fun."

"We can CoD it out through the night!" Stiles said enthusiastically.

"Yeaaaaah, I have a feeling your attention is going to be somewhere else," Scott laughed, making Stiles blush.

"Bros before… what's the phrase when it's a guy?" Stiles mused. "I mean, he's definitely not a ho, not that girls generally are anyway. It's a stupid phrase, I mean, who even came up with it? Do you think there are people who sit down and figure out phrases like that?"

"Whoa, slow down, that was three topics in one breath," Scott laughed. "And Isaac and Danny will be there, don't worry about me feeling abandoned. I wouldn't want to be witness to what Derek and you get up to, anyway."

Stiles didn't bother replying, he knew that he'd just get caught in a lie if he tried to deny that he did have plans for whatever time he'd get to spend with Derek. Instead, he felt for his phone and glanced at the screen to see if he had any messages. Not that he was expecting Derek to send anything, since they only talked before dinner, but Stiles couldn't help feeling a little disappointed at the sight of an empty screen.

"Go, call him," Scott sat up on the bed, and grinned at Stiles. "You know you want to."

"It's like, stupidly late in New York, though," Stiles tried to deflect.

"But Derek only flew in today, didn't he? So he'd still be on LA time," Scott said.

"Yeah, he said that earlier," Stiles admitted quietly.

"Call him, he's probably as much of a sap as you are, and is waiting by the phone," Scott smirked.

Stiles nodded, and he didn't even pay attention anymore as Scott left the room, because his eyes were on the screen, and his finger was scrolling to find Derek's name. The phone rang only once and then Derek's "hello" was in Stiles' ear.

"Hey you," Stiles said, his voice immediately more cheerful.

"How was dinner?" Derek asked, and Stiles heard the bang of a door over the line.

"Interesting," Stiles said, and he chuckled. "Scott says hi."

"Is he still there? Hi, Scott."

"Nah, he left me all alone," Stiles pretended to pout. "Well, after he basically  _ made _ me call you. I'm a sap, apparently."

"I'm yet to see evidence of that," Derek laughed. "At least when it comes to anything other than your endless love for food."

"I resent that," Stiles did pout at that comment. "I have love for other things, too. Like Call of Duty, Lydia's brain,  _ your abs _ ," he blushed when he blurted the last part.

"Good to know at least a part of me makes that list," Derek said. "My abs do appreciate the sentiment."

"I can tell them in person, you know?" Stiles continued rambling. "I could write odes to them, really, express my profound gratitude for their existence. I could write you one, too, for maintaining them in such admirable shape."

He listened to Derek's laugh for a while, glad that the tension and sadness from earlier seemed to have lessened a lot.

"We can discuss that," Derek said after a while. "We really should figure out visiting rights, I don't have it in me to keep you from the object of your affection."

"And yet you're all the way across the country," Stiles said in a sulky tone.

"Well, I could hardly have left  _ only _ my abs over there," Derek chuckled. "I'm not really a fan of blood, to be honest."

"Ah, that's off the SSSS, then," Stiles joked. "I'd better revise the list soon."

"How long  _ is _ the list, Stiles?" Derek asked with genuine curiosity.

"You'll find out soon enough," Stiles grinned, and he rolled over to boot up the laptop on his bedside table. "But it's safe to say that my imagination has very few limits."

"Tell me something I don't know," Derek mumbled. "I'm pretty sure mine can match that."

"Want to know something that's on the list?" Stiles said in a teasing tone.

"If you say phone sex, I'm hanging up," Derek shot back immediately.

"That… okay, I wasn't going to say  _ that _ , and I'm slightly disappointed at your objection," Stiles sighed as he shifted to see his laptop screen.

"It would've been a slightly too obvious thing," Derek said. "I'd expect something a little more inventive from you."

"Well, I don't know how very inventive it is," Stiles mused. "How's your internet over there? And do you have a laptop nearby?"

"I'm not opening potential nudes, Stiles, my door isn't locked," Derek grumbled. "I'm pretty sure Cora is hovering just outside the door right now."

"Again with the disappointment," Stiles snorted. "You're just full of ways to shoot down ideas I haven't even gotten to tonight."

"Can't help it if I'm a step ahead of you," Derek said with amusement.

"I was going to ask if we could switch to Skype, instead of running up the bills for phone calls," Stiles explained. "And I kind of wanted to see your grumpy face."

"Charming," Derek deadpanned. "But yeah, I have my laptop here, what's your Skype handle?"

"Stilinski-twenty-four," Stiles rattled off. "The one time that my lacrosse number came in handy."

"Okay, I'm on," Derek said, "Request sending about… now."

Stiles clicked on the request and immediately followed it by clicking on the call button, watching as his camera picture loaded in the corner. He still had the phone by his ear when Derek's face showed up on the screen, and he exited out of the call then.

"Well hello," Stiles smiled wide. "This is much better."

"It is," Derek nodded and Stiles watched him shuffle backwards on his bed until he was leaning against the headboard.

"So, anyway, how's New York?" Stiles asked, trying to not look too closely at what he could see of Derek's room.

"Dark, noisy," Derek sighed. "Annoyingly lacking a Stiles."

"Aww, you  _ do _ miss me," Stiles cooed.

"Reevaluating that right now," Derek glared. "Maybe I was wrong."

Stiles pouted, and he heard Derek's laugh at the reaction, then he saw Derek shake his head.

"Really, though, the city is pretty amazing before the holidays, you should see it someday," Derek offered, and Stiles sent him a smile.

"I'll make sure to pencil that in, after I've gotten through the hell that's college,  _ and _ possibly won the lottery so I can avoid slaving away to pay off my debt," Stiles was grinning.

Having Derek nearby would have been something he'd appreciate more, but even seeing Derek's face, and being able to talk was enough right then.

"I can give you a tour; show you places that most tourists wouldn't know about…" Derek said softly, looking like he was already compiling a list of things to see.

"Why, Mr. Hale, are you planning on seducing me?" Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow. "Will we recreate all the romances set in the Big Apple as you try to sweep me off my feet?"

"Maybe they're just places where no one would ever find your body," Derek deadpanned, but a second later he was laughing. "Oh man, that was worth it just to see the look on your face."

Stiles pouted, but then sighed in resignation.

"Fine, you win this one, Hale," he said, still frowning. "Got any big plans for the few days of freedom from college?"

"It's cute that you think I didn't bring my thesis, and that I won't be killing my eyesight with research," Derek said. "If I don't do it now, I'll have to spend New Year's Eve over it."

"Yeah, I don’t like that idea at all," Stiles pouted. "That would interfere with the plans I've got for you and for that night," he smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

"Please tell me that wasn't supposed to be seduction," Derek chuckled.

"And he still kills every single attempt and idea I have," Stiles sighed dramatically. "Where's your sense of romance and all that, Derek? Have we already hit the stage where it isn't happening? Have we skipped the sexy stage of our relationship?"

"Are you sure you didn't choose the wrong school and major?" Derek asked, smiling. "You seem to have a bit of a flair for dramatics."

"But sexy times, Derek!" Stiles said with a pleading tone. "You're totally ruining all my attempts at those."

"Maybe I just don't want to think about it when you're across the country, did you think about that?" Derek challenged.

"Aw, you  _ do _ want this!" Stiles' face lit up with a smile as he waved a hand along his body.

"Hold for a second, I have to think about it," Derek looked away from the screen, looking contemplative. "No, thought about it, and I really don't want to deal with a hard-on when I only have my hand to help," he said when he turned back to the camera again.

Stiles choked on air at Derek's words, because his mind immediately jumped to images of what Derek mentioned.

"That," Stiles took a deep breath, though it didn't stop his own dick growing hard, "was an entirely unhelpful image."

"Oh really?" Derek teased, and raised his eyebrow.

Stiles watched as Derek put the laptop further away and stretched out further on the bed.

"Maybe not," Stiles said, his eyes following Derek's fingers as they settled against the waistband of his pants. "Let me just…" Stiles pushed his laptop to the nightstand, and he jumped off the bed to lock his bedroom door.

When he walked back and looked at the screen, Derek was still in the same position as before, relaxed on his bed, his thumb just below the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Hope Cora won't walk in on you like this, she'd never let you live it down," Stiles said, and he settled on his own bed.

"Oh, the door's been locked since I walked in," Derek laughed. "I wasn't going to have her snoop on my conversations."

"But before, you said…" Stiles narrowed his eyes, remembering Derek's comments. "So, does that mean I can send you nudes now?"

"Why would I want that when I have a live feed now?" Derek smirked. "Want to  _ show _ me instead?"

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours," Stiles blurted, and he immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. "Okay, I didn't mean to be that cheesy."

"Well, that's a lie if I ever heard one," Derek replied, and his fingers dipped lower. "And anyway, it all depends on what you want to see."

"You," Stiles said without thinking. "This is good, if you don't want anything else, but I mean if you want to, I definitely won't mind. What do  _ you _ want to see, though?"

"Stiles, breathe," Derek smiled softly. "We'll see where we end up, okay?"

Trying to calm himself down a little, Stiles nodded as he took a breath, and glanced at the small frame with his own camera feed.

"Shirt off?" Stiles suggested, unable to form complete sentences anymore.

He watched Derek nod then reach for the hem of the faded Henley, and he followed Derek's hands as the top came off.

"Oh hello, abs, I've missed you," Stiles muttered when Derek's hands dropped back down to his torso and slid towards the waist.

"Should I leave you to waxing poetic about them?" Derek teased. "I can find a book to read or something."

"No, no no no," Stiles quickly added. "I miss your face, too. And your everything. Like kissing. That's a thing I miss too."

"It's been a day, Stiles," Derek chuckled at Stiles' rambling.

"It's been over twenty-four hours, that's like a small eternity," Stiles sighed.

"Drama queen," Derek shook his head. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Now? Because I can think of ways you could make it up to me right now, really," Stiles said dreamily, his imagination supplying ideas fast. "It's almost enough to… you could really just sit there and let me look at you. But also…"

He stopped, and he looked at Derek's face to check if he was going too fast, too soon. But Derek was only watching the screen with amusement.

"Here's a deal," Derek said then, when Stiles didn't continue his rambling. "If you want me to do something,  _ show me _ . I'll give you the shirt off thing, though I won't mind if you lose your hoodie, at least."

"I thought you liked the hoodie," Stiles said, but he was already pulling it off.

"Yeah, I do," Derek's eyes followed Stiles' movement. "Can't say I don't prefer it on the floor, though."

"Whoa, cheesy," Stiles laughed. "Okay, it's off, happy now?"

"Not quite yet ecstatic, but I'm hoping we'll get there," Derek said. "But you still have more clothes on than me," he pointed out.

"I also don't have abs to be showing off," Stiles mumbled, but he dutifully pulled off his tee and tossed it on the bed.

"I could help with that," Derek offered. "We can hit the gym when we're back at the dorms, if you want."

"Get all sweaty together?" Stiles asked. "I can think of slightly more pleasant ways of doing that."

"I haven't heard of that kind of workout giving anyone abs, but we can experiment," Derek laughed. "Now, I believe you were going to show me what you wanted me to do."

"I did?" Stiles asked dumbly, because his brain wasn't entirely on the ongoing conversation.

The images his mind conjured up of Derek in the gym, muscles straining with the weights and stretching, were all too distracting. But when Stiles refocused on the laptop screen, it didn't take that long to get back to what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, yeah, I did," he mumbled. "I… don't know, though," he added with hesitation.

It was a little overwhelming all of a sudden -- having Derek there, even if not in person, and being expected to say what Stiles wanted to see. Fantasies were easier, there was never any fear that he'd embarrass himself, but his stumbling over words and resembling the cheesy stories that led them here was sure to be a mood killer. Stiles wanted to  _ see _ Derek, wanted to ask him to touch himself, to get rid of the sweatpants and…

"I can do that," Derek said suddenly, and Stiles' eyes opened wide. "You really don't stop talking even when you think you aren't," Derek added. "And it's not a mood-killer; I've gotten to like your rambling."

"Filter breakdown," Stiles said, this time aware of saying the words out loud. "I'd say I'm sorry…" he paused, eyes locked on the screen and on Derek who was shuffling on his bed as he was trying to pull off the sweats, "…but if it ends in this, I'm gonna run with it."

"So, satisfied?" Derek asked with a smirk when he settled back on the bed, left in only dark boxers.

"Still too many clothes, but it's an improvement," Stiles blurted, his inhibitions falling away with each second.

"What about you?" Derek asked. "Aren't those jeans uncomfortable?"

Stiles glanced at the small square with his own feed, and blushed because he realized that on Derek's laptop, it was probably really obvious how Stiles' cock was thickening under the restricting fabric. He wordlessly reached for the button and the zipper and he pulled the jeans off as his eyes met Derek's as well as they could through the cameras.

"Well, the view is definitely better," Derek remarked.

"Glad you're enjoying it," Stiles smiled, still a little unsure of everything. "I definitely like mine."

"So, anything else you want me to do?" Derek asked.

"Dude, even the image on my screen right now is going to make waiting for you to come back so much better," Stiles said almost reverently, his eyes memorizing every part of Derek's body that he could see.

"I'll take that for the compliment I'm not sure it really was," Derek grinned. "It goes both ways, you know. I wish I was there to see you in person," he paused. "Even just to hold you, get my hands on your skin…"

"I want to touch you," Stiles breathed out then, spurred on by Derek's words. "I don't know where I'd start though, besides kissing you."

"I'd start at the back of your neck," Derek smiled. "There's this line of moles from the edge of your hair towards your shoulders, and it's  _ distracting _ … has been for a long time."

"How long?" Stiles asked, losing his ability to form full sentences again, because his mind ran away with the idea of Derek's lips on his skin.

"Since the night we studied together," Derek said.

Stiles didn't miss the moment Derek's hand disappeared behind the waistband of his boxers, nor did he ignore the slow stroking motion he could see under the fabric. He mirrored the movement, and reached for his own cock, by now hard and leaking, the tip slippery when Stiles ran a thumb over it.

"Fuck, that's… that's been a while," Stiles said, breathing heavier as he kept stroking himself at the same pace Derek was.

"That wasn't even the first time," Derek admitted. "But that was when I almost didn't manage to  _ not _ kiss you. When you landed in my lap…"

Stiles' eyes widened. He didn't remember that moment that well, because the combination of his wine buzz and embarrassment pushed anything else out of focus in his memories.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice, actually," Derek spoke quietly, and Stiles saw his blush even on the computer screen. "I think that was the fastest I ever got hard," Derek finished, and bit down on his bottom lip.

"That's not… not fair, Der," Stiles gasped when his thumb slipped over the tip of his cock again. "We could've been doing this in person so much sooner," he added with a little disappointment.

"I'll do this when we're back, I promise," Derek said. "I'll take my time, though, unlike now when I'm not going to last long at all."

"Let me see, Der," Stiles pleaded when he saw Derek's hand speeding up. "Can I see you?"

Derek nodded, and he pushed the last layer of fabric down, not bothering to get the boxers off completely. Stiles watched with wide eyes and when Derek started lifting his hips into the grip of his hand, Stiles knew he'd be proving that he was still a teenager who can't last.

"You too, Stiles," Derek breathed out and paused his movements for a few moments. "I want to watch you, please."

"Okay," Stiles nodded, already ridiculously close. "I swear I can last longer normally, but this isn't going to take much."

"We can test it," Derek smirked as he started moving his hand around his cock again. "I want to know how close I can get you without making you come," he said, and Stiles' mind imploded.

"How would you do that?" Stiles asked, cheeks burning as he thought of the possibilities.

"I'd touch you slowly, just with my fingertips like this," Derek loosened the grip on himself and ran his index fingers along his hard cock. "I'd touch you everywhere besides the obvious spots. Kiss you everywhere…"

"Derek, I…" Stiles felt his orgasm rushing at him already. "So close," he mumbled, and he stroked himself a little harder.

"Do you like the idea of me kissing you everywhere? Running my tongue over the skin on your hips, on your thighs," Derek kept talking.

It was unusual to hear Derek talk so much, but Stiles' mind wasn't able to process that. His whole consciousness was focused on the friction of his hand on his dick -- somewhere at the back of his mind he told himself to have lube closer next time -- and on the images that Derek's words caused.

"I wonder how you taste," Stiles blurted, already at a point where he couldn’t stop if he tried.

"You can find out later," Derek smirked. "But only after I'm done with you. That might take a while, I hope you're patient," he teased.

"You know… I'm not…" Stiles was breathing heavily, and he could feel his thighs begin to shake as he was trying to drag out what they were doing.

"Let go, Stiles," Derek whispered, and his voice was lower than usual.

Stiles wanted to hear it in his ear, he didn't even care what it was that Derek was saying, didn't think he'd care when Derek was next to him either. His teeth dug into his lip, and the sharp sting of them was what tipped Stiles over the edge. He let out a sound that he was pretty sure he never made before, followed it with a breathy 'Derek', and then he felt his cock pulse and twitch as come coated his fingers.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and ran his tongue over his lips automatically. When he heard a grunt and a moan from the laptop speakers, Stiles opened his eyes -- just in time to see Derek's mouth fall open, Stiles' name rolling from his tongue.

Time ticked by for a while, and Stiles had no idea how much of it passed as he was glued to the sight on the screen. Derek was leaning against his headboard with his head back and his neck exposed, his fingers still wrapped around his cock as it slowly softened, pearls of come just visible enough on his stomach.

"Fuck, I want to lick you," Stiles blurted eventually, when Derek's eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Okay, there's no way I can get it up again that soon," Derek groaned. "Don't say things like that, please," he sighed.

"Can't help it," Stiles mumbled. "You're very lickable. And my brain has just imploded, I can't be held responsible for anything I say right now. Shit, I'm gonna die when we do this in person, aren't I?"

"No, dying not allowed," Derek chuckled. "I like you alive, warm, breathing…"

"I like myself alive, thank you," Stiles pulled his shirt from where he threw it earlier, and he only hesitated for a second before wiping his hand on it.

"Glad we're agreeing on that one," Derek shot him a smile as he was cleaning up too.

"I'm sure we'll find more things to agree on," Stiles chuckled. "Like that Skype sex isn't all that bad. I'm willing to restrict myself when it comes to sending nudes."

"How generous of you," Derek quirked up and eyebrow before he continued, "but how do you know I didn't screenshot some of this call?"

"You wouldn't!" Stiles' voice filled with panic before he was hit with slight pride. "Not that it's a bad thing… I just wouldn't expect you to… you didn't actually take any screenshots, did you?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to never find out," Derek laughed.

Stiles shot him a look that he hoped conveyed the appropriate level of judgment, but then he shook his head and returned to wiping off his stomach.

"So, standing date for every evening until we're back at the dorms?" Stiles asked a while later, trying to not sound like he was pleading.

"I'll consider it," Derek said. "My hand might get jealous and need some alone time."

"Fine, be like that," Stiles pouted. "See if I introduce you to Miguel."

"To whom?" Derek frowned, and Stiles smirked at the reaction.

"He's dark, quite nice to touch," he kept grinning as he watched Derek narrow his eyes. "On the downside, being made out of silicone isn't all that… even though he does vibrate, which is a plus."

Derek's eyes blew wide open at the words, and Stiles felt like for once he was getting payback for the way Derek teased earlier. He was still chuckling to himself when they finally wished each other goodnight and logged out of Skype.

Stiles was almost asleep when his phone buzzed on the nightstand, and in his sleepy state he almost deleted the message before he could read it.

'Think you can show me what Miguel can do that I can't? xo, D.'


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Stiles felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. Scott was at the vet's, where he'd been working part-time before they started college, and Deaton -- the local vet -- needed help with settling some of the animals for the holiday. Stiles had been banned from them since freshman year in high school, because he kept trying to sneak home kittens, completely disregarding his Dad's allergy. John was pulling a double shift so he could take Christmas Day off, and Melissa was sleeping off the shift she'd rushed off to the night before.

Stiles was alone and bored out of his mind, which wasn't at all surprising, but still frustrating. He tried to text Danny and Jordan, and then even attempted a conversation with Cora, but none of them had the time of the day for him.

"Get out of the house, kid," John said when he stopped by for lunch. "You're going to vibrate right out of your skin if you stick around."

"What is there to do around here now, though?" Stiles grumbled.

"You and Scott are ridiculously codependent," John sighed. "Go for a run or something, work off the energy."

"Hi, I'm Stiles, have we  _ met _ ?" Stiles dropped his head onto the kitchen table. "Unless you are just as bored, and need to be called out to the Preserve after I fall down into a ravine or something."

"I didn't say anything about going out into the woods," John laughed. "But it's interesting that your mind went there."

"Nothing  _ interesting _ about it, Daddy-o," Stiles said defensively. "Where else would I possibly go for a run?"

"Around the neighborhood? Into town and back? Anywhere  _ closer _ than the Preserve, really," John said flatly. "Don't try and pretend that you're not curious about the Hale house."

"Fine, you got me," Stiles threw his hands up in defense. "You told me on purpose, didn't you?"

John smirked and pushed his chair away from the table, and then he glanced at Stiles with a smirk.

"I don't know if anyone will be there, but you should go. Get some air, stop climbing up the walls."

"I wasn't…" Stiles started, and then he narrowed his eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm going to go for a drive. Not like there's anything else to do, what with everyone else being busy."

"Out, now," John barked out a laugh. "Before I start thinking that your terrible twos have come back with a vengeance. I figured you'd been too well-behaved then."

"I resent that!" Stiles protested, but he let John lead him outside and to his Jeep.

He drove in silence, not feeling up to listening to the radio, let alone trying to figure out which of his playlists he was in the mood for. The Hale house had been a good bit away from the main roads, but there'd always been a clear enough dirt road that Stiles' Jeep managed easily.

Stiles' jaw dropped the moment that the house came into view as he turned a corner and passed the trees that obscured it as he was approaching. His Dad was telling the truth, Laura had been trying to get the house rebuilt, and it looked amazing. Stiles had only seen photos before, one in particular stuck in his mind because it was in the local paper, as a comparison to the burnt out husk after the fire.

The house that Stiles pulled up to was almost identical, though he noticed tiny amendments to the original design as he got out of his Jeep and walked closer. He was just lifting a foot to the first step of the front porch when a crack of a broken twig made him jump.

"This is private property," a familiar voice made Stiles spin around. "What are you doing here?"

"Derek!" Stiles gaped for a few seconds, lost for words. "What are you… but New York… but… hi," he finally blurted out, knowing he wasn't making sense.

Derek walked closer, and that was when Stiles' brain registered the smug grin on his boyfriend's face.

"You were never going to New York, were you?" Stiles asked.

He watched as Derek shook his head, having the decency to look a little sheepish at least.

"That was not… wait but, you're here for the holidays then?" Stiles asked when it crossed his mind that Derek might be just stopping at the house before leaving for the other side of the country.

"Yes, Stiles, we're staying," Derek said, and he took the last step towards Stiles.

"Oh, okay, cool," Stiles said, feeling -- and probably looking -- confused still.

He smiled when Derek's hand found his, and when his fingers slipped through Derek's slowly. Stiles was still processing that Derek was there, that they wouldn't run up phone bills over the next few days, and partly also that the house they were standing at wasn't a ruin anymore.

"Cora and Laura are around too, right?" Stiles asked then, after a few beats of silence.

"Not right now," Derek smirked, and then he nodded towards the front door. "Do you want to come in?"

"That depends," Stiles' mind was finally kicking back online, and he grinned.

"On what?" Derek played along.

"What are your intentions, kind sir?" Stiles tried to keep his face blank as the words fell out. "Or do you have any secret seduction plans for when you lure me into your childhood bedroom?"

"I don't know, are you seducible?" Derek said, grinning as he tugged Stiles closer to the door.

"Derek Hale, did you just quote  _ A Walk To Remember _ at me?" Stiles said, partly amused but partly strangely impressed.

"Laura loves the movie," Derek shrugged. "I may have seen it a few too many times."

"Ah, accidental movie quote retention," Stiles nodded. "Scott does something like that with  _ Star Wars _ , he knows most of the quotes, though he never saw the movies."

Derek turned to Stiles with an incredulous look in his face, and Stiles shrugged with a 'what are you gonna do' expression.

"I didn't say I don't like the movie, though," Derek admitted quietly. "And you didn't answer the question."

"Well, give me the grand tour, and you might just find out," Stiles smirked.

Derek tugged him closer then, and Stiles automatically tipped his head that tiny bit that was necessary so their lips met without a hassle. Only seconds into the kiss, Stiles was trying to hold back chuckles, though. He completely failed, and Derek pulled away with a look that was a mixture of confused and unimpressed.

"Sorry, sorry," Stiles blurted between bursts of laughter. "I just," he snorted and leaned his forehead against Derek's shoulder for a moment, trying to calm down.

"I have a feeling this won't be quite as funny to anyone outside your head," Derek deadpanned.

"Possible," Stiles admitted as his fit of laughter was calming down. "I just thought: porch, kiss, romance, I should probably do the leg pop or something," he finally said, and shrugged as he realized that it was definitely funnier in his head.

"Please don't," Derek tried to say seriously, but Stiles didn't miss the way the corner of Derek's mouth twitched. "I mean, you are a hazard to yourself on both feet, let alone with only one."

"Excuse me, I'm perfectly co- _ shit _ ," Stiles was saying as he took a step away from Derek in mock protest, and promptly stumbled over a piece of wood lying on the porch. “Coordinated,” he finished when he found his balance again.

"I see that," Derek grinned. "Come on, let me show you around. Not that a lot is furnished and decorated, but there are some things… you've never been to our house before, have you?"

If Stiles hadn't known the history, he would've missed the way Derek's eyes closed briefly at the memory that the words brought up. Stiles quickly shook his head, and he tightened his fingers around Derek's, hoping it would help ease the anxiety he saw building in Derek's face. They walked into the house, and Stiles -- prepared for bare walls and empty spaces by Derek's comment about the lack of furnishing -- was immediately impressed.

Derek showed him around the ground floor, which was still only sparsely decorated. As they were walking up the main staircase, he told Stiles about Laura's repeated attempts to sneak out that were without fail thwarted by a creaking step at the bottom. Stiles was then sworn to secrecy, and Derek sneakily held both his hands so the usual finger crossing that Stiles was used to do at such promises didn't work.

"You know me too well already," Stiles pouted when he realized Derek's gesture had a purpose.

"I bet you still have plenty of tricks you can stump me with," Derek said.

"Well, that felt like a patronizing pat on the head and a hidden 'there there' somewhere in those words," Stiles pouted. "You're not nice to me at all."

Derek grinned then, and tugged Stiles' hands to walk him into a room that Stiles didn't realize they have stopped by. It was… he realized that it was nothing like what he'd imagined, but at the same time very  _ Derek _ . There were simple lines and monochromatic colors, the occasional splash of red on some decorations. It was clear that Derek didn't see the room as  _ home _ , at least not yet, because the contrast to his warm and inviting room at the dorms was huge.

"Whoa, this…" Stiles waved a hand at the room, "this is very you, but…"

"Cora was the one who decorated," Derek shrugged. "I only saw it today."

"She's got good taste," Stiles nodded. "It's fits you."

"Plain and boring?" Derek raised his eyebrow.

"Simple but sophisticated," Stiles said. "All grown up, but definitely not boring," he added and he stepped closer to Derek, no longer looking at the room, but into Derek's eyes. "I like it."

"I'll be sure to let her know you approve," Derek grinned, and he brought his hands to Stiles' waist to pull him closer.

"It makes me wonder why you'd be wasting your time on a college student," Stiles mumbled as a pang of insecurity shot through him.

"I'm still a college student, too," Derek leaned in and he whispered into Stiles' ear, "and I happen to think you're not a waste of my time."

Stiles let out a sigh, wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, and then he buried his face into Derek's neck. They stood like that for a moment, Stiles just soaking in the warmth from Derek's body flush against his own.

"But we're alone, my sisters won't be home until later…" Derek said after a while, still in a whisper. "I wonder if we can put the time we have to some use."

Stiles lifted his head and he met Derek's eyes. "What did you have in mind?" he asked.

Derek didn't answer with words; instead he smirked before leaning in to kiss Stiles hungrily, the fingers on Stiles' waist pressing in harder. Stiles moaned into the kiss and his fingers moved up to slide into Derek's hair. Like the teenager that he was, his body vibrated with arousal and he could feel Derek hardening against Stiles' cock at a slightly slower pace.

"What do you think? Want to christen the bed in my  _ childhood bedroom _ ?" Derek mocked Stiles' words from earlier when they pulled away to take a breath.

"I don't think your bedroom looked like this when you were a child," Stiles muttered, but he tried to steer Derek towards the bed. "I'd be worried about your lack of being  _ fun _ in that case."

"I don't know, are adults not fun?" Derek shrugged, and then his knees hit the edge of the bed. He fell on it letting out an 'oof', and he pulled Stiles into his lap. "I am kind of partial to a little  _ grown up _ fun."

"What kind of fun is that?" Stiles said against Derek's lips.

"It involves fewer clothes," Derek smiled and kissed Stiles, his hands still settled on Stiles' waist in a firm grip. "And being a bit more horizontal."

"You  _ are _ trying to seduce me," Stiles started chuckling, but then Derek's mouth moved to his neck and the laugh morphed quickly into a moan. "Yeah okay, it's totally working, please keep it up," he rambled breathlessly when Derek sucked what Stiles was sure would end up being a hickey into the skin just below Stiles' ear.

"Oh I'm planning to," Derek's words were muffled as he kept kissing Stiles' neck. "You should lose this," he said and tugged on the hem of Stiles' hoodie.

"I'm not  _ losing _ it, but I could take it off," Stiles said. "Or you could," he added when he realized he'd have to take his hands off Derek to get rid of the hoodie.

Derek took him up on the offer immediately, and started working the hoodie upwards. Moments later, Stiles grunted when he was forced to move his hands so Derek could finish undressing him.

"Huh," Stiles looked down when he felt cool air hit his skin, "that was effective."

Derek had taken off Stiles' tee along with the hoodie, not that Stiles minded that.

"I thought I might as well," Derek grinned. "I wanted all of it off anyway."

"Yours is still on," Stiles grumbled, and he glared at the shirt that was hugging Derek's body. "'s nice on, but take it  _ off _ ."

"You'd have to move," Derek said.

"Don't wanna," Stiles mumbled, and he shivered when Derek's fingers ran down his back.

"Shirt stays on then," Derek shrugged.

Stiles grunted again, but before he could move off of Derek's lap, he felt fingers dipping underneath the waistband of his jeans, and his hips moved forward automatically.

"Unfair, I was going to move anyway," Stiles shot Derek a playful glare, and instead of moving, he dropped his hands to the buttons of Derek's shirt and he started opening them. "Now you'll have to deal with me doing it this way."

"I'll file my complaint to the universe later," Derek muttered and shifted just enough that Stiles could reach the lower buttons. "Because this is absolutely unacceptable."

"You're way too coherent right now," Stiles said, working his way to the last button. "I'm pretty sure we should change that."

He undid the last button, and pushed the shirt off of Derek's shoulders, and then he grunted when Derek didn't move his arms to get it off completely. Stiles glared and muttered "off", still tugging on the fabric.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Derek challenged as he let go of Stiles' waist and he shook the shirt off.

"Like this, maybe?" Stiles said and moved his hips forward, rubbing his cock against Derek's. "Ugh, fabric, this isn't all that effective, is it?"

Derek shuddered under Stiles, and let out a grunt that sounded a little like "good enough", though Stiles wasn't sure he heard right. He opened his mouth to ask Derek, but he didn't get a chance. In a move that Stiles wouldn't have expected Derek to be capable of, he suddenly found himself on his back on the bed, with Derek's knee between Stiles' thighs.

"How did you… what…" Stiles blurted out, but then he was cut off by a kiss. "Never mind," he added when Derek pulled away a little while later, grinning.

"That's what I thought," Derek said.

Stiles ran his hands down Derek's back, and he hooked his thumbs under the fabric of his pants, tugging them a little. When Derek didn't seem to get what Stiles thought was a clear enough hint, Stiles pulled at them again, but this time added a displeased grumble.

"Yes, Stiles?" Derek asked teasingly, and then he lowered his mouth to Stiles' jaw.

"How do you feel about nakedness?" Stiles asked.

"'m not a nudist, and I'm pretty sure Cora would kill me for scarring her for life if I became one," Derek mumbled into Stiles' neck. "Not opposed to it when alone, though."

"How about  _ now _ ?" Stiles worked more of his fingers under Derek's waistband. "Think we could do that?"

Nodding against Stiles' shoulder, Derek lifted his hips to allow Stiles to reach for the button and zipper of his pants. They slid off easily after that, and Derek kicked them off when they got stuck around his knees. Then he sat up, and make quick work of opening Stiles' jeans and with a little shuffling, he slid them off.

"Hmm, come here," Stiles beckoned, and Derek moved to hold himself up above Stiles. "Now, I know we haven't compared the lists of ideas yet," Stiles said then, his fingers sliding under Derek's boxer-briefs, "but how do you feel about taking this a little further than we did before."

"How far are you thinking," Derek said, his words muffled because he was mumbling them into the dip on Stiles' collarbone.

In the short time since their first kiss and that fateful afternoon with  _ the _ book, they hadn't really crossed many lines during their makeouts. With the always present danger of someone walking into Derek's room, and the few chances they even had to sneak away, they were yet to see each other completely naked, or even get further than high-school level frottage.

"Naked? Can that be a thing?" Stiles asked breathlessly, his hips lifting as Derek's lips moved lower.

"That depends," Derek looked up at Stiles, flicked his tongue over Stiles' nipple, and then grinned with satisfaction when Stiles hissed at the contact. "Do you want to get naked, or do you want  _ me _ naked?"

"Both," Stiles breathed out, almost whimpering when Derek dipped lower, and his chest brushed against Stiles' still clothed cock. "Both would be nice, can we do both?"

Derek chuckled, and he lifted his hips to allow Stiles to pull off the last item of clothing in lieu of an answer. While Stiles struggled with the boxer-briefs, Derek moved his right hand down and tugged Stiles' own boxers lower until Stiles had to lift his hips so Derek could get them all the way off. After a bit more shuffling and Stiles' huffs when the process didn't go as smoothly as he wanted, they were both finally naked.

"Better?" Derek asked with a hint of laughter in his voice, and he pushed his hips down to rub against Stiles' cock.

"F-fuck  _ yes _ ," Stiles shuddered at the contact.

He tried to look down, so he could get a decent look at Derek sans clothes, but when Derek moved, all intentions of  _ looking _ were forgotten, and Stiles automatically pushed his hips up to get more friction between them.

"Der, please," Stiles breathed out, though he wasn't quite sure what he was asking for.

_ More _ was on his mind, but he couldn't figure out if he wanted more grinding, more touching, or more kissing. His brain opted for the "all of the above" option, and he tried to say it out loud, but the only thing that came out was a moan.

"Stiles," Derek let out a whimper when Stiles' hands wandered to his lower back, and then dipped lower. "You're a menace," he added with an unconvincing frown.

"Is that a complaint?" Stiles asked, and he shifted his feet so he had more leverage to lift his hips. "Because you don't look like someone who's about to complain."

"Oh screw you," Derek said through gritted teeth, and his hand moved down and between their bodies.

Stiles lost the ability to speak when Derek's palm wrapped around his cock. The limited space made Derek shift his hips and the next moment Stiles felt Derek's cock slide against his own balls. At the same time, Derek dipped his head and attacked Stiles' neck again, kissing and sucking on the skin from Stiles' ears then down and to the dip underneath his Adam's apple. Stiles was powerless to do anything but buck his hips and slide his cock into the surprisingly gentle grip of Derek's palm.

That only lasted a few strokes, and when Derek pulled his hand away, a small noise of protest escaped Stiles' lips. He quickly stopped the words of complaint that were forming on his lips when Derek brought his hand to his mouth, and he licked a few times over his palm. A second later, Derek's hand was back on Stiles' cock, this time in a tighter grip, and Derek started stroking with more determination than before.

"Der," Stiles said in a breathy voice, and he let his hands fall down to the sheets beneath them, gripping on the fabric. "Derek," he let out in a pleading tone.

"What do you want, baby," Derek asked, lifting his head to look into Stiles' eyes.

And damn, Stiles felt a rush at hearing the endearment, which took him by surprise. He never thought he'd like those.

"Kiss?" Stiles asked, trying to balance his mind between going off on a tangent about pet names and the sparks of pleasure from his cock, since Derek didn't stop moving.

"Mhm," Derek hummed against Stiles' lips.

Under any other circumstances, Stiles' mind would've gone wandering. Derek's grip on his cock, the slide of Derek's cock against and past Stiles' balls and the hungry kiss were enough to keep it occupied, though. When Derek shifted, his cock dipped lower, and its head slid far enough to brush against Stiles' hole. It was enough to make Stiles buck up, fuck into Derek's hand and he moaned against Derek's lips.

"Stop thinking," Derek whispered, pulling away from the kiss for a beat.

"'m not," Stiles managed to mumble before Derek crashed his lips into his own again.

He felt Derek grind his hips down, the movement filled with determination as his cock aimed for the same spot that made Stiles moan a moment earlier. Stiles willed his muscles to move, and lifted his hands up, wrapped one hand around Derek's shoulder and slid the other into Derek's hair. He lost track of time then, didn't know if it took only a few more strokes or if it was minutes or longer before he could feel his balls drawing up, the tip of his cock already leaking pre-come onto his own stomach and Derek's hand.

"C'mon, baby," Derek mumbled against Stiles' lips. "'m close too."

Stiles felt Derek's shudder, felt his muscles tense like he was holding off for Stiles, and when Derek's thumb moved up and slipped through the pre-come gathered at the tip, Stiles was gone. He moaned something unintelligible against Derek's mouth, gripped his shoulder and tugged at the dark hair, and then the world around him vanished as his cock pulsed with his orgasm.

He was still shaking a little when his mind started coming back to normal. In the first moment of clarity he surged up to kiss Derek, who was still tense, shaking with the effort to hold back, and Stiles pushed his hips down to add friction to where Derek's cock was now sliding through Stiles' come on his slowly softening cock.

"Babe, let go," Stiles whispered, and he looked into Derek's eyes.

It seemed to be what Derek was holding off for, because the moment their eyes met, he tensed and then his whole body shuddered against Stiles, who could feel Derek's come shoot onto their stomachs. Stiles stroked the nape of Derek's neck and then kissed him as Derek's body started to relax a little.

"Hey," Derek said when he caught his breath.

"Hi," Stiles giggled -- he'd deny it if Derek ever brought it up, but he couldn't think of what else the sound could've been. "So, I'd say we're pretty good at that."

"How are you making words," Derek rolled his eyes and leaned down for a quick kiss.

"Weird brain, can't help it," Stiles shrugged.

Derek rolled over onto the bed, and he tugged on Stiles until they were facing each other, their legs tangled and come dripping onto the sheets.

"Cora's gonna kill you," Stiles remarked when he glanced down between them.

"Please, do not  _ ever _ mention my sister again when we're naked and post-orgasmic," Derek grunted.

"I'm sorry, babe," Stiles whispered, though he wasn't entirely apologetic. "It's better than mentioning her  _ during _ , though."

"Shut up," Derek grumbled and leaned in to kiss Stiles in an attempt to keep him from saying anything else.

They kissed lazily for a while, Stiles' hand back in Derek's hair and Derek's fingers stroking Stiles' lower back. When they paused, Stiles pulled away and narrowed his eyes.

"So, at the risk of getting yelled at," he started, and Derek's face morphed into an expression that was a mixture of alarmed and exasperated. "When are your sisters getting here?  _ Are _ they getting here, or did you have other plans?"

"I wasn't going to hop on a plane to New York today, if that's what you're asking," Derek said, and Stiles felt himself relax, though he hadn't noticed that he was anxious about Derek's answer.

"So what, you were planning to spend Christmas here?" Stiles prodded further, suddenly curious about Derek's change of plans.

"Something like that," Derek mumbled, and then he pulled away with a quiet hiss. "Ugh, shower?"

Stiles knew that the offer was a deflection, but he was too blissed out to protest, and he nodded before Derek got up and offered his hand to help Stiles get off the bed. They walked into the adjoining bathroom -- Stiles' mind drifted a little as he took in the design -- and showered together in silence. After, while Stiles tugged his jeans back on, Derek slipped into unfairly comfortable-looking sweatpants and a tee.

"No,  _ mine _ ," Stiles frowned when he saw Derek eyeing the red hoodie, though Stiles filed the idea of Derek in his clothes for later. "Eyes off the hoodie."

"Even when it's on you?" Derek teased, and stepped closer to wrap his arms around Stiles.

"Not fair to ask me that," Stiles mumbled.

"Can I get my  _ hands _ on it?" Derek continued. "When it's on you?"

"Who are you, and what have you done to Derek Hale?" Stiles asked, but he leaned back against Derek's chest.

"You're too easy to tease," Derek chuckled.

"Oh now you're just asking for trouble, mister," Stiles turned his head and he narrowed his eyes. "Because  _ that _ sounds like a challenge to me."

"We can discuss details of it in the kitchen," Derek said with a smile, and he pulled away from a protesting Stiles. "I'm starving."

"I could eat," Stiles conceded.

"He says like it's  _ news _ ," Derek rolled his eyes and laughed at Stiles' pout.

"Just for that, I'm eating all the curly fries," Stiles huffed.

"Who said there will be curly fries?" Derek asked, his eyebrow up but the corners of his mouth turned up. "I was thinking a nice veggie burger with a side salad would do nicely."

"Hey, there's no need to be actually  _ cruel _ ," Stiles pouted.

Derek leaned in to kiss the pout away when they walked into the kitchen, and then he waved the local diner's delivery menu at Stiles.

"You're my favorite," Stiles mumbled almost reverently when he read the front of the leaflet.

Derek was still laughing when he pulled out his phone and dialed the diner's number.

They chose the couch in the sitting room to curl up on, and didn't bother moving to the kitchen when their food was delivered. Stiles was holding a bag of fries against his chest as he snuggled against Derek's side, humming when Derek's arm wrapped around his waist.

Still in somewhat of a food coma -- Derek had gone maybe a tiny bit overboard on the order -- Stiles barely noticed the sound of the front door opening and then closing.

"Derek!" Cora's voice echoed through the mostly empty house. "I hope you did bring the nice shirt, I am in no way letting you surprise Stiles in your Star Wars tee, that's unclassy. Also, Lydia would  _ kill _ you."

"First of all, how would  _ Lydia _ find out," Stiles called out and chuckled when he heard the clatter as something fell to the ground -- he did hope it wasn't Cora herself. "And second," he continued when she peeked into the sitting room, "I have it on good authority that Stiles would appreciate the Star Wars tee. And its contents," he added the last bit in a hushed tone as he turned to Derek, who was shaking with laughter.

"Lydia would find out because the entire  _ floor _ was in on the plan," Cora sighed and walked into the room. "So they'll all be demanding photos and updates. Which are now obviously  _ not _ going to happen," she finished and waved her hand in Derek and Stiles' direction.

"Sorry?" Stiles said cautiously, his face conveying his confusion. "Not that I know what the plan was and how I ruined it, which I obviously have, but feel free to enlighten me."

Cora sighed and leaned against the doorframe, and then she glared in Derek's direction.

"Well, my darling brother here," she nodded at Derek, the acidic tone in her voice unmistakable, though it was mixed with a little fondness, "was supposed to be all romantic and be at your house on Christmas morning."

"Aw, babe," Stiles cooed and turned his face to Derek, who had his head ducked. "Now I'm sorry I came snooping around the house."

"You couldn't have  _ stayed hidden _ , Der, could you?" Cora hissed. "You had  _ one _ job."

"Do you want me to be honest," Derek said with a slightly mocking tone, "or do you want me to say that I'm sorry?"

"You're a disappointment, Derek Hale," Cora rolled her eyes at him.

Stiles snapped his eyes up to Cora. His mind had drifted to the thought of finding Derek wrapped in only a bow --  _ red, definitely red _ , his mind added, almost sending him back into the daydream -- and he blushed when she narrowed her eyes at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I'm not disappointed," he said quietly, and shifted to be a little closer to Derek.

"I'm sorry I ruined the plan, Cora," Derek said, not sounding the tiniest bit sorry at all.

"Sure you are," Cora sighed. "On the upside, it means that I don’t have to be up  _ that _ early on Christmas morning to be there to take pictures."

"But Christmas mornings are the best!" Stiles protested. "Waking up at the crack of dawn, having hot chocolate as everyone unwraps presents…" he said dreamily.

"How about sleeping in because you're in bed with someone else?" Derek whispered into Stiles' ear.

"Okay, I'm out of here," Cora snapped when Stiles' cheeks started heating up. "I don't want to know. I don't want to  _ think _ of what you just told him, Der."

"Nothing!" Stiles said quickly. "Completely innocent whispering going on here, nothing untoward or inappropriate."

He didn't lie, but he also didn't mention where his mind had taken Derek's question. The image of a red ribbon came to Stiles' mind again, and he bit his lip to not blurt it out loud.

"Wait," he said after a pause, just as Cora was turning to walk out of the room. "Was my  _ Dad _ in on this?"

Derek nodded against Stiles' cheek, and when Stiles turned to look at him, there was a very obvious blush underneath the slight stubble.

"You had my father in on a romantic surprise for me?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"He did make me promise that we wouldn't wake  _ him _ up too early," Derek admitted. "Because apparently  _ you _ do every year."

"Well, who else would I be opening my presents with?" Stiles said with a pout, but also a hint of genuine sadness.

Derek brushed his lips against Stiles' cheek, and wrapped his arm tighter around Stiles' waist then, both of them falling into silence.

"Well, now you've got us," Cora remarked, still standing in the doorway, and obviously trying to ease the mood a little. "As long as we get rid of the whole ass-crack of dawn thing, because you're on your own with that one."

"I'm willing to negotiate," Stiles nodded. "If I'm allowed to unwrap one present in the evening. Dad never caved to that one."

Derek nuzzled his face into Stiles' neck then, and hummed quietly.

"I swear, if one of you mentions something about unwrapping each other, I will hurl," Cora shot at them. "Anyway, Der, now that the plans have obviously changed, you can break the news to the Sheriff. I'm going last-minute shopping."

"Isn't that where you were until now?" Derek asked with a frown.

"Don't complain, or I'll hover over the two of you all day," Cora smirked. "Or ban Stiles from the house and send him back home."

"You wouldn't!" Stiles said, alarmed.

"Nah, I wouldn't," she smiled, and Stiles really should've known better than to relax when she was smiling like that. "I'd get  _ Laura _ to do it."

"You're evil," Stiles mumbled, and he felt Derek nodding against his shoulder.

"Der, I better not walk in on something when I come back for supper," she said, and then she rushed out of the room before either of them had a chance to respond.

"So, why is it that you didn't stay hidden when I got here?" Stiles asked after a while, when his brain processed all the information he'd been given.

"Missed you," Derek snuggled closer.

"You're a sap," Stiles chuckled, but couldn't deny the warm feeling that spread through him at Derek's words. "I've been away for  _ two days _ , Hale."

Derek shrugged, and Stiles finally set aside the bag of fries, so he could turn around to face Derek properly.

"Wait," Stiles paused suddenly, and he narrowed his eyes at Derek. "Where did you Skype me from last night? You weren't on the east coast at all, were you?"

"Nope," Derek said with a sly grin. "Did you not recognize the room when we walked in?"

Stiles shook his head, feeling like he should be facepalming, because it didn't click with him that Derek's room in the Hale house was indeed the one he'd seen through the laptop screen the night before.

"You were distracting me," he said with a small pout, trying to shift the blame for his own lack of observation on Derek.

" _ Now _ he's complaining," Derek chuckled.

"I'm really,  _ really _ not," Stiles said then, and leaned in, capturing Derek's lips with his. "Now, you should tell me all about the plan you had for Christmas morning. Did it involve you being wrapped in a red bow under the tree? Because I don't know if my Dad would've been able to cope with that image, as much as  _ I _ would've appreciated it. Actually, if you really want to, you can totally still do that, I won't mind. And now that I know, I can keep Dad away."

"Stiles," Derek shook his head, chuckling. "No red bows were involved, only a not completely embarrassing Christmas jumper -- I have to thank Lydia for that -- and you possibly speechless."

"Nope, that wouldn't happen. Stiles doesn't do speechless, ever."

"Now  _ there _ is a challenge that I know I won't resist," Derek laughed.

"Bring it on, Hale," the corner of Stiles' mouth lifted. "What do you think you can do that would be so impressive that it would make my brain stop thinking?"

At that, Derek moved faster than Stiles could react to, and he flipped Stiles over on his back, then hovered over him and held his hands above his head. Stiles' eyes were wide open from the unexpected movement, and his lips parted to laugh off Derek's attempt. But before he said a word, Derek's lips were on his, Stiles' hands were held above his head with a firm grip of one of Derek's hands, and Derek's hips ground down into Stiles'.

"Oh my god, you couldn't  _ wait _ until I'm out of the house?" Cora screeched from the direction of the hallway.

"I thought you  _ were _ ," Derek shot back.

Instead of a reply from Cora, they heard the front door slam closed, and Derek's weight fell on top of Stiles, vibrating with laughter.

"She'll hate me," Stiles whined. "I was so on the way into her good books, and  _ Laura's _ , and now they'll both think that I'm corrupting you, even though this was none of my doing."

Derek laughed harder at Stiles' distressed tone.

"I get no sympathy here, do I?" Stiles complained, tugging his hands free out of Derek's loosened grip. "Your sister has told me before that she approves of  _ us _ , and now she's going to regret that."

"Cora did  _ what _ ?" Derek abruptly stopped laughing and his head bolted up.

"Oh," Stiles let out, realizing that he mentioned something that Derek wasn't aware of.

"Stiles," Derek said. "What did she say?"

"She… nothing, she said nothing  _ bad _ , I promise," Stiles told Derek. "And she didn't meddle either, not  _ much _ at least, not after I asked her not to."

Derek shook his head, but he still held Stiles' gaze with narrowed eyes.

"Okay, jeesh," Stiles sighed. "She was trying to play matchmaker, back before the ball. I asked her not to, she stopped, but not before she told me she approves of me. Which she is now totally going to regret, and she'll end up hating me," he rambled, both because he worried that it might come true and to distract Derek from the topic of Cora's interfering.

"I asked her not to," Derek said quietly. "She knew I had a thing for you, but I made her swear not to stick her nose into it."

"Wait, how long did she know? How long have you wanted all up on this?" Stiles asked with a weak wave at his body.

"Since I was conned into supplying you with alcohol," Derek said and blushed. "And you stared at me like a deer caught in headlights when I gave you the drink."

Stiles couldn't do anything but stare at Derek, remembering the day of the dorms registration and his own reaction to when he saw Derek for the first time.

"I wasn't even supposed to be away from the bar, but Lydia  _ insisted _ ," Derek kept talking. "And you know how persistent she can be."

At that, Stiles nodded numbly, and then his mind brought up Cora's request that he go ask Derek about his food order.

"They'd been in on it since then," he said, and Derek frowned. "Cora and Lydia," Stiles said, and then he explained how Cora had sent him to the bar before they'd gone to pick up everyone's food.

Derek shook his head and looked resigned.

"Well, we got there…  _ here _ , in the end," he said a moment later.

"Let's just pretend it was  _ without _ their help?" Stiles half asked, half pleaded.

"Like they're going to let us do that," Derek chuckled.

Stiles huffed with indignation, but then Derek's lips were on his again, and he figured they'd have time to think of revenge later. Much later.


	10. Chapter 10

"How did you manage to stop Scott from running his mouth, though, is what I would like to know," Stiles said to Derek.

Christmas had been and gone in a flurry of dinners, presents, and families coming together instead of everyone splitting up to celebrate alone. John and Melissa had insisted on inviting the Hales for Christmas dinner, and in the end they'd held it at the Hale house, since it had the most space. Stiles had to admit that he had a little too much fun decorating the house to make it more festive, but by the time they all had settled around the dinner table, he'd been praised for the results of his enthusiasm.

"He had different things on his mind, I guess," Derek shrugged. "It helped that he was only vaguely aware of us planning something."

"Wait, what other things? What's Scott hiding?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek.

"Nothing," Derek said a little too quickly.

Stiles frowned, because it was clear that Derek wasn't telling him the truth, but he figured he could question Scott himself later. He shifted closer to Derek, and he glanced around the room before he leaned in for a kiss. They were the first ones back at the dorms, since Cora and Laura made a trip to New York, mostly to pack up whatever they needed to move to the reconstructed house. Everyone else was due back later that day, and Stiles had plans for the emptiness of the whole floor and for his alone time with Derek.

"We should," he started mumbling against Derek's lips, "make use of no one else being here."

"What sneaky plans do you have?" Derek grinned when he pulled away a little.

"Hm, I'd suggest breaking in  _ my _ bed, but it's barely big enough for one of us," Stiles sighed.

Derek let out a relieved sigh and Stiles immediately threw him a questioning look.

"No, I'm not giving you ideas," Derek shook his head. "Not when you didn't think of what I thought you might have."

"Well, now I'm just curious and it's going to be killing me not to know," Stiles grumbled.

"Just like everything else, then?" Derek smirked. "Like  _ the list _ ?"

"Wait, you actually  _ have _ a list?" Stiles perked up. "Because I totally have mine, in checklist format so we can tick off things. I have highlighters and a rating system, too."

"Of course you do," Derek laughed and pulled Stiles closer. "How about for now, you stay right here," he said as he flipped Stiles onto his back and settled over him, "hold on to the headboard, and let me see how loud I can make you be. Let me take my time taking you apart," he whispered into Stiles' ear.

"I can do that," Stiles blurted and followed the words up with a whimper when Derek's teeth scraped over his earlobe, then nipped at it softly. "Totally cool with that, yes," he rambled on.

Derek did make good on his promise to take his time, and Stiles couldn't tell how much of it passed while he was stretched out underneath Derek's body, letting out sounds he didn't know he was capable of. By the time Derek looked like he was ready to give in and stop the cycle of bringing Stiles right to the edge of an orgasm before stopping to let him cool down, Stiles was babbling incoherently, not at all minding the pleading tone in his voice.

He came down Derek's throat with an accompanying shout, and then he watched as Derek kneeled above him and stroked himself to his own climax. Afterwards, neither of them was willing -- or able, if Stiles was honest with himself -- to move, so Derek's tee fell victim to a lazy clean-up, because it was the only suitable thing within reach.

"I'll wash it," Stiles muttered when he heard Derek's displeased grumble. "I'll get you a new one," he amended when his mind supplied that washing required effort and moving, which was not in the realm of possibility right then.

"You two about finished?" Isaac's voice came from behind the closed door. "Cora is rallying the troops to get this party started."

Stiles groaned, and his cheeks were burning when he realized that at the very least one of their roommates was around for a while, and the walls within the quarter weren't all that thick. Derek huffed as he buried his face into Stiles' neck, obviously unwilling to move.

"Did you know they came back?" Stiles' accusation slipped out.

"Mhm," Derek hummed.

Stiles tensed at first, but then, despite the fact that he was spent from his earlier orgasm, he felt his oversensitive cock twitch at the thought of being overheard.

"'s on the list," he mumbled as he buried his face into Derek's hair. "How'd you know?"

"My list," Derek replied without a trace of embarrassment.

"Asshole," Stiles grunted.

"Next time," Derek replied and he lifted his head to grin at Stiles.

"Seriously, you two," Scott's voice came through the door. "I might not hear you  _ now _ , but you better not be getting back to humping like bunnies. There's stuff to be done."

"Shut up, Scotty," Stiles called out then, gritting his teeth.

"Fine, big bad wolf and Little Red," Scott laughed. "Whatever you two are into, I don't judge."

"Fuck you!" Stiles yelled towards the door and then he mumbled an apology when Derek cringed at the volume of Stiles' voice and its proximity to his ear.

"Don't think Derek would be on board with that," Cora replied instead of Scott, and Stiles froze again.

"Is  _ everyone _ here already," he muttered so that only Derek could hear him.

"What time is it?" Derek asked and glanced at the alarm clock on his night stand. "Shit, yeah, they would be, it's almost nine," he said and started to shift to get off of the bed  _ and _ Stiles. "I need a shower," he added when he finally sat up.

"Together?" Stiles suggested, but he was met with a skeptical look and a raised eyebrow from Derek.

"Would you keep your hands to yourself?" Derek asked, and the corner of his lips twitched. "I mean, everyone is around, and the bathroom walls are even thinner than these."

"Ah," Stiles slumped back into the pillows with resignation. "You go then, I'll…"

"Stay here and warm the bed until Lydia or Cora come to drag you out?"

"That sounds like a pretty good plan, yes," Stiles smiled, and he stretched out, his limbs still loose and relaxed.

Derek smirked, then got off the bed without bothering to look for his clothes, and grabbed a towel that had been hanging on the wardrobe door. Stiles followed his movements from his comfortable spot on the bed, and blushed when Derek paused to run his eyes over Stiles' body.

"Der, you better not be naked in there, I'm coming in," Cora yelled from behind the door, and both Derek and Stiles startled.

"The door is locked, right?" Stiles asked, panic rising in his chest as he flailed on the bed in an attempt to get under the sheets they didn't bother with earlier.

"I don't know," Derek answered while he tried to wrap the towel around his waist and moved towards the door to check.

Before he could get his hand on the handle, the door flew open, and Cora marched in with Lydia right behind her, both of their expressions a mixture of unimpressed and amused.

"Right, you two need to get out and start  _ helping _ ," Cora stated, leaving no room for an argument, though Stiles' mouth immediately opened to protest. "Scott, stop fussing with Isaac's shirt and come get your best friend out of here," she called out just as Lydia wordlessly handed Stiles and Derek printed out lists of tasks.

"Jeez, what's this party going to be that it needs  _ all this _ ," Stiles grumbled.

"Are you questioning me, Stilinski?" Lydia leveled him with a glare, and he quickly shook his head. "Good, now come on, there's plenty to do."

"But…" Stiles said weakly, and he tugged the sheets up higher, all too aware of how naked his body was under it.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Lydia rolled her eyes and she stuck her head out into the hallway. "Scott, come  _ on _ , you're the one who's seen him naked before. Not that I know when exactly you got all that shy," she said when she looked back towards the bed.

Stiles could feel his cheeks heating up -- there had been so many scenarios in which he'd been naked on a bed with Lydia in the room, but they'd all been in his imagination then and none of them seemed in any way interesting anymore -- and a glance around the room made him realize that Derek must have left while Lydia held Stiles' attention. She threw him one last amused glance and walked out just as Scott came in; the blush in his cheeks matching the one Stiles was still trying to fight off.

"Come on, before we lose privileges for the party," Scott grumbled, pointedly looking everywhere but at Stiles. "I don't want to end up on snack duty or something."

"Why, you got better plans?" Stiles asked, not really paying attention to Scott because he was trying to untangle himself out of Derek's sheets.

He did notice the telling silence that followed what was in Stiles' opinion a completely innocent question. When he looked up at Scott, he didn't miss the blush on his best friend's face, nor the way Scott was biting his lip in a way that strengthened Stiles' curiosity about what Scott was hiding. But with Lydia still in the hallway -- Stiles could hear the impatient clicking of her heels -- there wasn't time to question anyone about anything. He fumbled with the nearest pieces of clothing that he could find, and saluted Lydia and Cora as he rushed around them into his own room.

"Your clothes are hanging on the wardrobe!" Lydia called out after him and Stiles waved to acknowledge that, then turned the sharp corner out of her sight.

"Dude, you're sharing clothes already?" Scott asked when Stiles started changing.

"What?"

"That's not your shirt," Scott pointed to the soft long-sleeved henley. "Or your boxers."

"It's mildly disturbing that you know that, Scotty," Stiles tried to deflect, but realized that he wasn't going to succeed. "I grabbed what was closest," he shrugged.

"You're doing my laundry then," Derek deadpanned from the entrance, and when Stiles looked up, he blinked a few times at the sight.

Derek seemed to have less qualms walking around with only a towel around his waist, drops of water from the shower still falling from his messy hair.

"I was going to wear that tonight," Derek pointed to the Henley that was now crumpled on Stiles' bed. "Got one I can borrow?"

"Dude," Scott's eyes widened at the exchange. "You… I… I'm out guys, you can deal with Lydia and Cora if you both get distracted, I don't wanna know," he blurted out and then rushed out.

"He's got a point," Stiles said quietly, but he couldn't move when Derek stepped closer.

"I'm not here to distract you," he smiled.

"Well, you're doing a shit job of whatever you  _ did _ come here for," Stiles smirked. "Because your everything right now is distracting. Really,  _ really _ distracting."

"Can't have that," Derek chuckled and leaned in to brush his lips over Stiles' cheek. "I did mean it about the shirt, though. That was my last clean one; I was going to do laundry tomorrow."

"You want to wear one of  _ my _ shirts. To the party. Where everyone is going to be.  _ My _ T-shirt that is likely to be a size or four too small."

"Mhm," Derek nodded.

"Help yourself," Stiles said with a resigned tone and he waved at his duffel bag on the bottom of the wardrobe. "But it's not like I had a chance to unpack."

"Unlike you, I don't go home to wash my clothes, I bring them here to be washed," Derek laughed and bent down to rummage through the bag.

"Oh fuck you," Stiles groaned. "You totally did come here to distract me."

"I really did  _ not _ ," Derek stood up, a shirt in his hand. "But if that's what you want…" he said and took a step towards Stiles.

"Hale!" Lydia's angry voice interrupted them right as Derek was leaning in for a kiss. "Room, clothes,  _ now _ ."

"Yes, Ma'am," Derek saluted and laughed, but he did drop a quick kiss on Stiles' lips before he walked back towards his room.

"Cockblock," Stiles muttered under his breath, hoping that it was quiet enough that Lydia couldn't hear it.

"Stop whining," she said, her expression making it clear that she did hear him. "Go wash up, and then come help us so this thing can start, then you two can find a dark corner and do whatever you want. Which, I'm guessing, is each other."

"Lydia!" Stiles protested weakly, unable to argue her words.

Soon after, Stiles wasn't thinking about the sight of Derek fresh out of the shower, because he was lugging boxes of  _ stuff _ \-- he didn't dare interrupt the process by asking what exactly he was carrying -- from the main dorms entrance. The lift was blissfully functional, so at least they didn't have to carry everything up the stairs, and Stiles was assigned the lift duty -- standing inside and pushing buttons, then helping unload the boxes on their floor.

"Is this a week-long party?" Jordan asked when the lift opened for the third time, still loaded almost enough to hide Stiles behind the boxes.

"Got better plans for tonight, Jor?" Erica asked as she sauntered by, obviously not roped into the heavy lifting part of the preparations.

"What if I do?" Jordan tried, but failed at sounding convincing.

"Then I'm sure the English majors will make do without you for the night," she winked at him and the door to her quarter slammed as she disappeared behind it.

"English majors, eh?" Stiles asked with curiosity. "How  _ many _ of them are you courting, Mr. Parrish?"

"No courting, Reyes is full of crap," Jordan said defensively, but Stiles didn't miss the blush that tinted his ears.

Stiles shot him a look that he hoped conveyed his disbelief, but before they could continue the conversation -- or well, questioning -- Cora poked her head out from the kitchen and yelled at them to hurry up. To Stiles' relief, there were only a few more things to bring up on the one last run downstairs, and soon after he was ushered out of the way and into the kitchen to shuffle around the seating area.

"Derek's on drinks," Scott told him when Stiles looked around with confusion, not seeing Derek anywhere near.

"Isn't that  _ here _ ?"

"No, the bar stuff is set up in Jordan's room," Isaac explained as he walked over to them, "I think it's something about it having a door and technically not being accessible to underage people."

"Ah, nice one," Stiles nodded. "That would hold up if the party got busted. But, is anyone from outside this floor around?"

"Not here, but there are people at the dorms, and you never know who might turn out to be a snitch," Cora said. "Good job guys, we're good to go," she added as she looked over the lined up seats that they just finished moving.

"I feel like I should go take a shower," Stiles grumbled, and he sprawled out on the chair in front of him. "I don't know why Lydia had me change into this already."

"Because if you hadn't, you'd get lost on the way to your room," Lydia said with a chuckle, and then laughed louder when Stiles jumped.

"Fuck, Lyds, where did you come out of?" Stiles huffed and tried to shake off the surprise.

"It's not my fault that you're so unobservant," Lydia smiled sweetly. "Your boy is looking for you."

It barely took a second before Stiles was up on his feet, forgetting that he had any plans to act nonchalant about anything regarding Derek. He rushed out of the kitchen, barely waiting for the answer for his quick "Jordan's room, right?" question directed at Lydia.

As the party began turning from a quiet hangout of friends into laughter and dancing of varying quality -- depending on skill and alcohol levels -- Stiles settled close to the makeshift bar that Derek had set up from the desks in Jordan, Boyd and the twins' room. He snuck out to the balcony after a while, mostly to hide away with the drink that Derek handed him and told him to  _ not _ show off, just in case someone did come and check on the underage half of their group.

"Yo, Stiles," Danny said as he walked onto the balcony from his own room.

"Hey Danny boy, how's it going?" Stiles grinned, the buzz from the drink hitting him hard and fast.

"Pretty good," Danny nodded and sat down on the beanbags that Stiles was laid out on. "Shift your bony ass, there's enough space for both of us."

"Hey! I don't have a bony ass!" Stiles tried to protest, but then he was pulled up from the comfortable cushion and into Derek's arms.

"You kind of do," Derek said with a chuckle, and Stiles heard Danny's weak protest about how they should get a room. "But I like it," Derek added, and Stiles felt his stubble against his own neck.

"Who's manning the bar?" Stiles managed to ask, his mind surprisingly clear for a very short moment. "Isn't Lydia going to kill you for abandoning it?"

"Jordan and Laura took over," Derek's voice was muffled against the skin of Stiles' neck. "Said they couldn't watch me pine anymore."

"I wasn't out here alone for that long," Stiles smiled. "Did you miss me already?"

"God, you two are insufferable saps," Danny groaned. "Please, for the love of everything that is holy,  _ get a room _ ."

"We tried, before," Stiles said in the direction of Danny's back that was disappearing back into the room. "Got kicked out," he finished weakly to no one, since Danny was already inside.

"There's still a while before midnight," Derek told him after a few seconds. "We could go dance, or something."

"Who's on the music?" Stiles asked.

He didn't mind the selection that he'd heard all evening, though it was slightly muted by the walls between Jordan's room and the main floor. But he kind of hoped for an excuse to  _ not _ go mingle with everyone else.

"I think Brae and Cora were taking turns," Derek said, thoughtful. "Unless someone else listens to the same stuff as them. Aaaand," he raised an eyebrow just as they heard the music switch, "that's definitely Erica now."

"Oh man, no, there's no way I'm going out there when Erica's at the decks," Stiles groaned. "She'll do something to embarrass me, I know she will."

"We could  _ not _ dance," Derek suggests. "If we stay here, someone will come snooping and trying to get us to socialize anyway."

"Shame, I'd prefer staying out here with you," Stiles tucked his thumbs into the loops of Derek's jeans. "You're a lot more pleasant company than the rest of them."

"Scott's been asking about you earlier," Derek said quietly, resting his hands on Stiles' lower back. "He seemed like he had something to tell you."

"He's been hiding something," Stiles whispered. "I'm just not sure why or what it is. But he's been … off, ever since he broke up with Kira."

Derek only hummed in response, and that was enough to trigger Stiles' suspicions.

"You know what he's hiding, don't you?" Stiles asked Derek, not trying to hide the accusing tone in his voice.

"Come on, you can ask him," Derek nodded towards the rooms.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It's not my secret to tell," Derek shrugged. "And before you start, it's not  _ really _ a secret. I told you he was looking for you earlier, didn't I?"

Stiles gave in, admitting that Derek was making sense, and he followed as Derek led the way inside, past Laura who was now serving drinks, and out towards the kitchen. The music got louder as they came close, and Stiles spotted Erica just slipping away from where the decks and the speakers were set up, waving to Malia to take over. It was then that Stiles noticed that Malia had to untangle herself out of Kira's arms to get up to the music, and his jaw dropped a little as he processed what he saw. He looked at Derek, but found him already distracted with something else, so Stiles followed his line of sight.

"Whoa," Stiles managed to let out when he realized what he was seeing. "Dude, Scotty."

"Yeah, I guess he doesn't need to tell you," Derek chuckled when he heard Stiles' shocked tone.

"Well, there are surprises, and then there's…" Stiles started, but found himself lost for words.

The makeshift dance floor -- the hall between all the rooms on the floor -- wasn't full, since there definitely weren't enough people to take up all the space. Stiles had perfect view of his best friend, Allison on one side and Isaac on the other, their closeness giving away that it was more than just dancing. Scott caught Stiles' eye then, and his expression changed to one of slight worry, but Stiles grinned in response and gave Scott a thumbs-up with his free hand.

"Not what I was expecting," Stiles admitted then, leaning more into Derek as they slipped into the kitchen where it was a bit more quiet.

"Guess it's a night for surprises," Derek said, nodding towards Kira and then to Braeden, who was sitting pretty much in Aiden's lap.

Jordan was chatting out on the balcony with Caitlin and her boyfriend, Lydia was obviously done micromanaging the party and back to managing Jackson as usual. Ethan and Danny were nowhere in sight, and Stiles was glad that he didn't try walking through Danny's room earlier.

“Surprises, yeah,” Stiles muttered, and he grabbed the bottle of water that Derek was handing him. “I feel like there should be a chart or something to keep track of who’s dating whom.” 

“Check with Lydia, there’s a fair chance she has one,” Derek said, and chuckled when Stiles only nodded to acknowledge the possibility. 

They settled down on the couch in the kitchen, the music loud enough to make them feel like they were participating, but less deafening than in the hall. The drink from earlier started hitting Stiles’ body even though he was already sipping on the water in his hand. 

“Hey, you’re not going to crash before midnight, are you?” Derek asked with mirth in his tone. “Didn’t take you for a complete lightweight.” 

“Brain overload, too much info, processing,” Stiles mumbled as he shifted around and burrowed closer into Derek’s side. 

“Scott was…” Derek started, but he paused when Stiles shook his head. 

“Scotty can talk to me tomorrow. He’ll have his hands full anyway,” Stiles said with a smirk on his lips. “Plus, I’m pretty comfortable here, and that,” he waved his hand in the direction he’d seen Scott last, “is a one-on-one conversation.”

“So I’m stuck with you for midnight?” Derek wrapped his arm tighter around Stiles’ shoulders.

“Unless you tell me to leave,” Stiles said, and pulled away a little to look at Derek, “you’re stuck with me for longer than that, hopefully.”

“I like the sound of that,” Derek smiled and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Glad you do,” Stiles mumbled against Derek’s lips.

“Get a room!” Erica hollered from the other side of the room, laughter ringing through her voice. 

Derek sighed, and he shifted to move away from Stiles’ slowly slumping body. When he got up, Stiles grumbled unhappily, and looked up at Derek.

“Come on, let’s get away from these savages for a while,” Derek said, offering Stiles a hand.

“Where to?” Stiles asked.

“There won’t be anyone in my room, or yours,” Derek told him, already leading the way past their friends out of the kitchen. “It won’t be quiet, but that might be a good thing.” 

“You planning on being loud?” Stiles said, chuckling. 

“Not me, you seem to have a thing for not controlling your volume,” Derek said as they walked into his room. 

When Stiles fell on the bed, all thoughts of any sex adventures were forgotten when he buried his face into Derek’s pillow. 

“Nap time now,” Derek whispered, and he wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, then pulled a blanket over them both. 

Stiles closed his eyes, and he breathed in the scent of Derek’s detergent mixed with a hint of his aftershave. When he opened his eyes again a little, the bass line from next doors was completely different to what it was when he’d closed them. It immediately made his brain whirr into consciousness though his body was still halfway asleep. 

“Oh no, Lydia,” Stiles’ voice was muffled by the pillow under his face. 

“Um, no, Derek.”

“I don’t mean  _ you _ , idiot,” Stiles said and he sighed as he rolled away from the pillow, and from Derek’s side. “What time is it?”

“Five minutes to midnight,” Derek said with a groan. “Should we…?” 

Stiles buried his face back into the pillow, and debated the merits of going out to join everyone else against staying with Derek. 

“What are the chances that someone will burst in here in the next four minutes?”

“It’s not impossible,” Derek replied, and pulled away from Stiles to sit up. “It’s also likely that even if no one does, you’ll regret not celebrating with your best friend.” 

“I hate when you have a good point,” Stiles grumbled, but he reluctantly got off the bed. 

He brushed his clothes off a little, noticing how their nap made them crumpled and most definitely not Lydia-approved. But when Derek walked over, his own shirt just as bad, Stiles decided to let it go. 

They got to the kitchen just in time to be handed a glass of champagne each -- accompanied by a raised eyebrow from Jordan who was handing them out -- and the first ring of the bell announcing midnight. The whole floor stood in a circle, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile at all the couples that had formed finding spots together. And then there was Scott, Allison between him and Isaac, the boys hugging her while trying not to spill their drinks.

The last ten seconds of the countdown rang through the room in a dissonance of voices, except for the zero. That got muffled by various kisses around the room, including Derek and Stiles. 

“Yeah, I like how this year is starting,” Stiles said into Derek’s ear a moment later, over the cheers from around the room. 

“Me too,” Derek replied.

They both glanced around the room, smiled at their friends, but it only took moments before Stiles pulled Derek into another kiss. This one was a little more heated, enough that Derek started backing up towards their quarter. It was only when Stiles heard Cora’s voice over the noise, yelling “get a room, Der-bear” that he stopped kissing Derek -- who was flipping Cora off behind Stiles’ back -- and glared in what he hoped was a suitably menacing manner. 

“C’mon, room,” Derek muttered against Stiles’ ear. “We’ll have plenty chances to yell at her later.”

And with that, they slipped out of the hall and into the quiet of their quarter. 

“It’s gonna be a good year,” Stiles said before the door slammed closed and his back was pushed against it by a chuckling Derek. 

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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